


I Kinda Like Him, Though

by drpepper23



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective!Mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 11:03:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1980492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drpepper23/pseuds/drpepper23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is set ten years in the future. Ian and Mickey have never met. Mickey and Carl are best friends and co-workers. Ian has been living in Washington for the past couple of years and has finally decided to come home for good. What happens when he meets Mickey Milkovich his first night back?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I tired to update and ended up delating the whole first chapter. Not sure what I did. All comments were lost, sorry about that.

Carl Gallagher was a dare devil, always had been and while being a part-time bounty hunter allowed him to take out his frustrations on the human race, it was his job as a tester that he really loved. He couldn't believe people actually paid him to blow shit up, tear shit apart, or melt shit together. His adolescent years spend torturing any and everything around had certainly paid off. He was now one of the top testers at Netestgrill. 

With all the knowledge he'd picked up as a child he knew exactly the time and temperature it took for two pieces of plastic to melt together or what explosives would make the smallest or biggest boom, depending on the testing product. Carl loved his job. It was the one place he was allowed to shine. Instead of being called psycho or crazy, his understanding of all things weird was not only respected, but coveted. 

His job as a bounty hunter wasn't bad either. Once again his childhood knowledge came in handy. All the years spend tormenting other kids at school had taught him excellent fighting techniques for taking down fugitives and bringing them to justice. 

It was with this in mind that he approached his fellow bounty hunter, Mickey Milkovich. He knew the Milkoviches from around the neighborhood, hell who didn't? Their family actually made his family look good, and that was some hard shit to do. Mickey was said to be one of the worst because unlike his brothers who were just dangerous he was both smart and dangerous.

Just like Carl, Mickey had taken his childhood skill of busting kneecaps to become one of the best bounty hunters in Chicago. He now got calls from other states, as his reputation seemed to improve on a yearly basics. Bounty hunting didn't really pay the bills though, unless you caught a big fish, and Carl knew that Mickey had had his share of million dollar bond jumpers, and ten percent of a million dollars was nothing to sneeze at. 

Carl watched as the older man worked under the hood of his car, probably changing the oil or some shit like that. When he'd first gone into bounty hunting, Mickey had taken him under his wing. The Gallagher name was as well known as the Milkovich name and Mickey must have felt a kinship with his fellow Southsider. He'd taken Carl on more than one learning experience and even though Carl hadn't done much, Mickey had still split the bounty with him each time. 

"Hey, what you doing?" Carl asked. He walked to the front of the car and took a seat in one on the plastic green chairs that sat on the front lawn. 

Mickey wiped his oil-stained hands on a dirty blue rag and then sat down opposite Carl lighting, up a smoke. "Cleaning the calibrator. Shit can clog up quick if you're not careful."

Carl nodded. He tested out more than one kind of calibrator back at the Netestgrill labs. "So my older brother Ian is coming home tomorrow," Carl started. He didn't know quite how to ask what he wanted, which was silly because he and Mickey had never really given each other shit about anything. Still, Carl didn't want to cross any lines. Mickey was one of the few friends whose company he actually enjoyed and he didn't want to do anything to jeopardize that. 

Mickey inhaled. "Yeah, betcha be glad to see him, huh? How long he been away for?"

"Did four years in the army, came out on medical leave, floated for a bit, worked for the government, and then opened up his own fitness gym in D.C. He's visits and we Skype all the time, but it's not the same, you know." Carl allowed himself a small smile. Ian was coming home for good this time and he couldn't be happier. For the first time in years, all his brothers and sisters would be together. 

Mickey gave him a blank look. Carl knew Mickey knew him well enough to know that he was stalling. "Look, me and my other brothers, Lip and Liam, we're taking him out to get something to eat, maybe a couple of drinks, and um..." Carl took a deep breath and wondered when his tongue had become so damn heavy. "Well since you're kind of like a big brother to me too, I wonder if you wanted to join us?" 

Mickey just continued to stare at him. 

Carl shook his head. "But if you think it's stupid, or you don't feel the same..., you taught me everything I know about bounty hunting and so I kind of look up to..." Carl shook his head. What the hell had he been thinking? Mickey was looking at him like he was an escaped mental patient and Carl didn't blamed him one bit. He waved his hand in the air. "You know what, forget it. It was stupid. Forget I even asked and we can-"

"I'll go," Mickey said cutting him off. "Ain't like I got shit else to do. Unless a skip comes in, so yeah, I'll go meet your other brother." 

#

Mickey stood in front of the full-length mirror in the hallway and slicked his hair back. Carl was like a little brother to him and so he didn't mind hanging out for a little while. The Gallagher's were notorious on the Southside, much like his own family. Being friends with Carl, he'd gotten to know Lip, Fiona, Deb, and 13-year-old Liam pretty well. They were okay, he guessed. Hell, he'd eaten dinner over there a couple of times so they couldn't be too bad, right? 

He felt something vibrate in his pocket and pulled out his phone. A frown formed on his face as he read the message. He'd felt for sure they'd be chilling at the Alibi, but Carl had just texted and said to meet them at Kick-Back-In, a sports bar that was popular with both North and Southsiders. 

He'd never been there but he'd heard it was a pretty laid-back place. He hoped so, because he wasn't ready to take any shit from some Northside fuckoff who thought the sun rose and shined on his own ass.

He found the table quick enough but stopped short when the most intense looking green eyes, greener than anything he'd ever seen, looked up and pierced him with a stare. "Ian." Mickey pushed his name out like a breath he'd been holding for years. 

His chest actually shook, his heart fluttering so fast he had to stop walking to make sure he wasn't imagining shit. He'd always thought bullshit like this was made up by people wanting to pretend they were in love, he guessed not, because his heart was still going a mile a minute. Sweat made his face wet, as he walked up to the table, trying hard as hell to pretend everything was normal. Carl had mentioned that his other brother was gay right? 

Mickey sat down beside Carl, with Lip, Liam, and Ian across from them. He could do this. No way was he letting one stupid ginger, fuck up his whole night. "What's good? You guys ordered yet?" his voice might have had a slight tremor, but he was sure no one noticed that but him.

Carl shook his head. "Nah, was waiting on you. Did get a tower of beer though, four glasses." 

Liam's face took on a comical pout, his lower lip sticking out, to expressed his immense displeasure. "They won't serve me here. Fuck if I'm going to drink water, why did we come here instead of the Alibi again?" 

Ian ran an affectionate hand over his brother's head. Mickey's breath caught as he wondered what it would feel like to have that same hand touching him in unnamable places. His pulse quickened, making something else rise and he had to adjust his pants to keep from being too uncomfortable. "Can you at least pretend to be a kid just a little longer?" Ian asked his younger sibling. 

Lip picked up an empty glass and handed it to Liam, a big ass smirk on his face. "Drink the water, then use the cup for beer. This place is packed." He stopped talking and looked around. Almost ever inch of the bar was occupied, hoards of people still coming through the door. "No one's going to pay any attention to you. They're to busy worrying about their own shit."

Mickey watched the exchange with open curiosity. He'd never really paid much attention to the Gallagher's interactions before. He and Carl, usually sat around talking guns, and comparing skips, antagonizing everybody around them. He saw now what he'd missed before. They were like a softer, more loving, version of him and his brothers and strangely enough, he found himself relaxing in a way that he hadn't in years. 

The waitress came with their tower of beer and they put in an order for a bucket of hot wings, bacon cheddar fries, and spinach and artichoke dip. 

Mickey poured himself a glass only to look up and catch Ian's eyes fixed on him. He raised an eyebrow and Ian let a small smile form on his lips. "I remember Mandy from school. What's she up to now?"

Mickey shrugged. "Got her beauty license. Her and Iggy got their own shop a couple blocks from here." He didn't really fuck with his dad or other brothers so who knew what the fuck they were up to.

Ian's brows furrowed and Mickey adjusted his pants again, no way in hell should that shit have been as sexy as it was. "Iggy, your brother Iggy? What? He cut hair or something?" Ian seemed genuinely confused.

Mickey took a long swallow of beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Yeah, they did that shit together. Got their licenses. They do piercing and tattoos in the back, go their licenses for that too." 

Lip nodded. "They must be pretty good, place is packed every time I ride by."

Mickey allowed himself a moment of brotherly pride, it wasn't something he was able to feel often, but in this case, it was well deserved. Iggy and Mandy had done well for themselves, and Mickey always liked to joke that he knew who to come to if he ever needed a loan. 

"Speaking of which," Lip said turning to the youngest Gallagher. "You get that money from the Thompson boy?"

Liam shook his head, causing Lip to sigh in exasperation. "You got half though right?"

"Nope," Liam said taking a swallow of the beer he'd just poured for himself. 

Lip pinned him with an incredulous stare. "What the fuck, dude?" He shook his head as if he couldn't believe the shit he had to put up with. "What did I tell you? No matter what you do; term papers, book reports, math homework, always get half up front."

Mickey watched in amazement as Liam burped and sat back with a lazy smile on his face. "Why? I like it when they don't pay, gives me a chance to use the bat." Mickey almost choked on his beer as shadows of a younger Carl popped into his head. 

Lip shook his head and Mickey could have sworn he heard him mumble, "scary as shit," under his breath.

Carl laughed when he saw the look of confusion on Mickey's face. "Liam scares Fiona and Lip, because he's a mix off all of us rolled into one."

Mickey raised an eyebrow, just as the waitress, Kerry, her nametag said, placed the food on the table. He waited until she'd flurried away again before looking at Carl for an explanation. 

It was Ian who answered, picking up a wing and dipping it in ranch dressing. He held it in his hand as he talked. "See Liam has Lip's smarts, Carl's craziness," he looked to his other brother in bite into the wing. "No offense, Carl." He took a bite of his chicken and Mickey resisted the urge to reach over and lick the little bit of sauce that was stuck on his chin. Did the other man even know what he was doing to him? Mickey was sure he didn't.

Lip smirked and picked up the conversation. "Yeah, see, then he has Ian's stabling influence, Debbie's passion, and Fiona's reliance." 

Mickey turned his head to see the younger Gallagher staring at them. The look on his face said that this was the most ridiculous thing he'd every heard. 

Carl picked up a chip and scooped up a little dip. "He also has a side business selling bootleg CD's and DVD's." 

The brothers all started talking at once and Mickey took a sip of his beer and smiled. Dare he say it, but this shit was alright. He was actually having a good time and the fact that every couple of minutes Ian would look up at him and smile didn't hurt things one bit. 

#

Ian threw his head back and laughed. He was having a much better time than he thought he would. "Oh come on now, you're kidding right?" He picked up a bacon cheddar fry and dipped it in a little ketchup watching Mickey the whole time. 

"No shit," the other man said, laughing as well. "Ask Carl, fucker knew we had him cornered and jumped out of a tree for my ass, man." Mickey swallowed a little beer then pointed to Carl. "You brother here, catches him in a bear hug as he's coming down, slams him to the ground, and we made our collar, no problem." He clapped his hands together as if to say it had been the easies thing in the world.

Ian could see it all so vividly in his head. Mickey was such a good storyteller, with his wild expressions and hands flying all over the place. Ian could listen to him for days. "The adventures of Carl and Mickey. Who would have thought, right?" He hoped his voice didn't sound too dreamy. 

Mickey smiled again and Ian cleared his throat, trying desperately to keep his cool. Did he have any idea how fucking eatable he was. Ian suspected not. 

Mickey waved a hand in the air. "Yeah, whatever, man. It pays the bills so you know," he shrugged.

They continued talking, their easy banter, and simple teasing, keeping them occupied all the way to closing. Looking to his side Ian saw that Liam had curled into a ball and went to sleep. "Trying to hang with the big boys, huh?" he said nudging Lip, who just shook his head.

Ian let Lip deal with waking him up and turned his attention to Mickey. "You wanna give me ride home." He knew he was taking a chance, but his gut had never really led him wrong before. There was something between him and Mickey. Something easy and good and they'd gotten along so well tonight that Ian felt himself reluctant to let it go.

Mickey's eyes widen in surprise. That only lasted a second before his eyelids dropped and his tongue shot out to swipe slowly across his lower lip. Ian could feel the heat from across the table. Smoldering is what it was. "Yeah, I'll give you a ride, all night if you want me too." Ian shivered, as Mickey's voice had taken on a tone so low and sexy that he felt the vibrations all the way down to his dick. 

Ian looked behind him to where Lip and Carl were supporting Liam between them. "Gotta make sure my little brother makes it to the car first." 

Once they had Liam laid out in the back seat he pulled Lip off to the side. "I'm gonna catch Mickey home, so don't wait up, we'll probably play a game of cards or something."

Lip raised an eyebrow while lighting up a smoke. "That what they calling it now."

Ian just shook his head and grabbed his brother into a big hug. "Thanks for tonight, man. I really had a good time."

"Just glad you're home. Hey maybe we'll do this again, next Friday after work, yeah?"

"Sounds good." Ian released him from the hug, waved goodbye to Carl, then jogged over to where Mickey was waiting for him. 

"You good?" Mickey asked, opening the doors of a little green sports car. 

Ian slipped easily into the passenger seat. "Why? You plan on making it better if I'm not?" It sounded corny to his own ears but Mickey didn't seem to mind. 

The other man simply gave him an wicked grin as he claimed into the driver's seat. "Got a little spunk to you, huh?"

They pulled up to a well-maintained white clapboard house in downtown Chicago. It was nothing fancy, but the grass was cut, there was no trash littering the front yard, and everything seemed new and freshly painted. It looked inviting and Ian couldn't wait to get inside. They'd talked easy enough on the ride over, keeping up the easy amity they'd found at the bar. 

They got out the car and Ian looked around the seemly nice neighborhood. "Bounty hunting must pay alright, huh?" 

Mickey shrugged as he opened the front door. "Can't complain."

As soon as they stepped in the house, Ian was on him. He grabbed the other man by the waist, pulling him close, and sticking his tongue down his throat. He tasted like beer, cigarettes, and hot wings. Ian couldn't get enough, three of his favored things all combined together with the taste of Mickey, made him so hot that his skin burned with the fervor of it all. 

Mickey responded in kind, snaking his hand around Ian's head to pull him closer, and kissing him like a thirsty man looking for water. Wet, grunting, noises sounded throughout the house as they made their way to the bedroom, clothes flying in all directions. 

"Been wanting to do this all night," Ian said, as they fell back on the bed, both of them completely naked by now.

"You and me both, firecrotch." Mickey spread his legs wide and Ian eagerly crawled between them kissing on his neck, and collarbone. 

They went at it for a little while, just kissing, touching, and caressing, before Ian finally grabbed the lube, got Mickey ready, and sunk into heaven.

#

Mickey took a puff off the cigarette and passed it back to Ian. "So, Carl tells me you're opening a gym?"

Ian took the smoke out of Mickey's hand and puffed. "Yeah, man, had one up there, getting all my equipment and shit shipped here. Just felt like it was time to come home, you know. I missed being here, missed my family."

Mickey took the cigarette back, the morning sunlight reaching in through the window, damn near blinding him. They hadn't gotten any sleep.  
They'd spend the whole night, fucking, talking, and smoking. Mickey couldn't remember when he'd had a better time. He looked over at the redhead and tried hard not to smile. If he was really honest with himself, he'd admit that he'd never felt like this in his life. Being with Ian just felt good. It made him feel good in places he didn't even know existed. 

"Want some breakfast?" he asked, passing the smoke back and standing up. He was sore and tired as fuck, yet he'd never felt happier. He and Ian seemed to had constructed a little bubble for themselves and he'd do just about anything to keep it that way for a little longer. 

Ian put the cigarette out and stood up. Mickey bit his lower lip when Ian's taunt muscles ripped across his belly as he threw his hands in the air for a full body stretch. He was already sore enough, best to leave those thoughts until later. "What you got?"

Mickey made his way to the kitchen after washing his hands. He pulled out eggs, bacon, and pancake mix. 

Ian wiped his hands on a towel and smiled. "You do the bacon and eggs, put cheese in them though, and I'll mix up the pancakes."

Mickey couldn't help the smile that broke out over his face, especially when Ian ended the sentence with a quick kiss to his lips. He grabbed a bowl from the cabinet and got busy cracking eggs, while Ian gathered the ingredients for the pancakes. They worked well together laughing, talking, and accidently bumping into each other every five minutes as they both tried to work over the stove. 

"This is nice," Ian said, and Mickey ducked his head so the other man couldn't see the smile trying it's best to form on his lips.

"What ya doing today?" he asked the redhead after they were both seated and happily munching on their breakfast. 

Ian took a sip of juice before crunching on a piece of bacon. "Gotta meet Debbie's boyfriend a few blocks from here. I got an abandoned building, still in pretty good shape, just been sitting around for about six months, and it was already a gym before."

Mickey tried to hide his disappointment by leaning over and licking a spot of juice that was steadily making its way across Ian's chin. He'd hope they could spend the day in bed, watching movies or some shit. "He in construction or something?" 

Ian looked at him and smiled. Mickey could sell that damn smile on eBay and probably make millions. "Yeah, he's gonna help me fix it up. Won't take much, it was already a gym remember, and the previous owners left it in pretty good condition."

Mickey looked down at the table, caught between genuinely wanting to assist and not wanting to let Ian out of his eyesight. He had some stupid notion they if he let the redhead go, he'd vanish into thin air and Mickey would wake up to find it had all been a dream. "I could help you know," he shrugged. "In between skips I could help you fix it up, no charge." He felt pathetic, like some clingy lovesick puppy, who couldn't be away from their love interest for more than five minutes. 

The bright smile on Ian's face made him feel better though. Mickey really did want to help out. He wanted Ian happy. He wanted Ian to keep looking at him like he could do anything, wanted Ian to keep making him feel things he'd never felt before. He'd do just about anything not to lose this feeling and he was slowly coming to realize that a happy Ian, meant a happy Mickey, and maybe the reverse was true as well. 

Ian touched himself through his boxers. "No charge, huh? You sure about that?" he joked.

Mickey threw his head back and laughed. It felt good to let go like this. It was kind of freeing in a way. To know that no matter what he did or said, he won't be judged for it. He paused for a moment to wonder how he'd survived so long without it. "Well, I was kind of hoping to get more of that anyway."

Ian grabbed his hand and put it on his already harden cock. "It's all yours." 

No way in hell was Mickey going to let himself believe that. Still, he didn't object when Ian leaned over and locked him in a kiss that went on way longer than it should have. No one could tell him that he wasn't drowning with Ian being his only lifeline. He clung to the only thing keeping his head above water as he tried to pour all of his feelings into that one kiss.


	2. chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey and Ian move forward and the rest of the Gallaghers, along with Iggy and Mandy make an appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter seems almost like a filler, but in the next chapter everything kind of explodes.

Ian walked into the Gallagher family home with an extra bounce in his step. He’d been back in Chicago for three weeks and could count the number of times he’d slept at home on one hand. 

Mickey Milkovich. He couldn’t explain it, he just knew that he liked being with the other man. 

“Well, somebody got some today,” Fiona laughed, bend over the stove, stirring something in a big pot. Ian shook his head thinking about the number of times he’d seen her in that exact position growing up. 

He walked over and kissed her on the cheek.  
“Smells good. What’s that? spaghetti?”

“House favorite,” she smiled up at him.

“So how are things in the cup business? Your boss still giving you a hard time?” Fiona had called him more than once while he was in D.C. to talk about the man. He was very subtle and sometimes she couldn’t tell if he was hitting on her or just being a very attentive boss. Ian had set her straight each time. He’d definitely been hitting on her. 

Fiona put the garlic bread in the oven and looked up at Ian with a frown. “Who we talking about? Mike? Nah, once me and Onion got married he finally let it go.” 

Ian looked toward the stairs. He knew Fiona’s husband was probably sleep. He worked third shift at the steel plant and that sometimes caused him to miss family dinner nights. She’d met Onion seven years ago, but they’d only been married for three years. Ian liked him and he knew for a fact that Lip did too. Carl and Liam didn’t seem to care too much for him, but Ian couldn’t see anything the other man had really done wrong. He was steady, hard working, and he’d held the down the same job for more than twenty years. Above everything else, he made their sister happy and that was all that really mattered.

Ian broke out of his reverie, his mind turning back to Fiona’s boss. “Didn’t you say his brother tried to get with you too?” he thought he remembered her mentioning something of the sort. 

Fiona gave an incredulous shake of the head. “Robbie? Yeah, came this close too.” She snapped her fingers together. 

Well that certainly wasn’t what he’d expected to hear. “Let’s file that under too much information.” He grabbed a beer out the fridge while Fiona laughed at how uncomfortable he was. Thinking about either one of his sisters hooking up was akin to popping his eyeballs out slowly and painfully. Ian shuddered from the mental image of it all. 

Fiona stopped laughing and they both looked up as Liam’s heavy boots sounded on the steps. He walked in carrying a book bag, which he promptly handed to Ian. “For your approval.”

Ian didn’t even try to hide his confusion. “Liam?”

Liam rolled his eyes as if his big brother was the dumbest person alive. “The fliers you asked me to print up for your new gym. If you don’t like’em I can print some more, but I figured since you’ll be opening in a couple of days, we might as well start circulating them.”

Ian pulled the stack out and looked at the vibrant red and blues. It had the name of the gym, Gallagher’s Fitness, the opening date, and the special offers that he and Mickey had worked so hard on. “Looks great,” he said rubbing the younger boy’s head, only for him to knock his hand away. 

“Seems like we’re just in time.” Ian looked up to see Debbie and Derrick walking through the door. 

He pulled her into a hug and gave a nod of acknowledgement to her boyfriend. It seemed like he spent more time with Derrick fixing up the gym than he spend with his own sister. Still the other man had been a godsend and the fact that he was working at almost half his usual price didn’t hurt either. 

Debbie walked to the stove and Ian watched her with a look of wonderment on his face. His little sister had become a full-grown woman. She taught art at one of the local elementary schools and still managed to do her own projects on the side. Ian couldn’t be more proud and he liked to think that growing up with him, Fiona, and Lip, had played a part in making the beautiful woman that now stood before him. 

He made a mental note to become more involved in her life. She and Derrick just lived a couple of blocks from Mickey and so he promised himself after the gym opened, and everything settled down, he’d get by to see her more. 

She took a spoon and dipped it in the sauce. “Carl not home from work yet?” 

Fiona smacked her hand away. “He’ll be here soon,” she then turned to Ian. “Where’s Mickey? It’s okay to bring him, you know. He’s been here for dinner more than a few times with Carl.”

Ian nodded as he felt something swell in his chest. He wanted Mickey to be liked and accepted by his family. It was important to him in a way that nothing had ever been important to him before. Mickey fit so well into all aspects of his life that just the thought of the two things he cared the most about not getting along send him into a complete tailspin. “Yeah, he told me. He would have come, got a runner though. Dude skipped out on a 500,000 bond. No way was he giving that up.”

Fiona poured the food into a bowl while Debbie stacked the bread on a plate. Liam set the table, and Derrick, got soda and beer out the fridge. Ian reached for the napkins and the parmesan fitting right into the groove that was going on in the kitchen. It felt so good to be home and Ian wondered how he’d survived so long in D.C. without any family. 

Fiona brought his thoughts back to Mickey with her next words. “Hope he’s being careful.” She placed a big bowl filled with spaghetti in the middle of the table and then turned back toward the stove. 

Ian wouldn’t let such thoughts invade his head. “I can’t think like that. I’ll drive myself nuts. He’ll be okay and he’ll come home to me like he always does.” Anything else was simply not on option. 

Fiona stopped mid-way to the kitchen area and turned around. Her face held the surprise she must have felt. “So this is getting serious then?” He didn’t know if it was a question or a statement but he took it as both. 

He shrugged and tried to find some kind of way to put his feelings into words. “He makes me happy, Fi. Like so happy, I can’t even explain it happy, like that, you know?” Mickey would call him a sap, but Ian didn’t care. He’d shout it from the rooftops if he could, this feeling that had taken over him since Mickey Milkovich had entered his life. He’d never been more content and he didn’t care who knew it. 

Fiona’s face took on a soft look as a wide smile took over her features. “I’m glad you’re happy. You deserve to be happy, and we like Mickey. He’s been good to Carl. Shit, he’s been good for Carl, if you can believe that.” Ian could believe that. He’d seen the easy comradeship his boyfriend and brother had whenever Carl came over to hangout with them. 

He placed the napkins and cheese on the table and everyone sat down to enjoy their meal. Five minutes in, saw a fresh from work Carl coming through the door, two guys standing behind him.  
Carl took his seat, then pointed to the pair leaning against the doorframe, their body language saying they were more than a little uneasy. “Liam, you got customers.” 

The younger boy twirled some spaghetti around his fork, wiped his hands on his pants, then grabbed the bag behind his chair and stood up. Ian watched curious to see what his younger brother was up to. 

He pulled out a couple of DVD’s (probably CD’s too for all Ian knew), and a folder with some paper in it. Ian figured it was probably a book report or something. The guys placed the money in his hand just as Lip came through the door, smirking and shaking his head at his little brother. 

Liam kept the money balled in a tight little fist, walked to the counter, and took down an old beaten up coffee can, pulling an envelope out, he stuck all the cash in there. 

The squirrel fund. Ian had no idea they still did that. He was instantly transported back to days of trying to make sure the power stayed on, the hot water stayed hot, and they each had enough to eat at the dinner table. Man, how times had changed. “We still need that?” he asked as Liam put the can up and sat back done. He knew Fiona had her cup job, which she did well with. Her husband Onion worked down at the steel plant and brought home a hefty paycheck, not to mention Carl’s two jobs, and Liam’s little hustles. 

Debbie shook her head. “Nah, we use it more like a bank now. Money we want to put aside, money we want to put up, and money we want to save. Liam’s saving for a new bike. I’m saving up for a trip to the beach, almost done too,” she smiled proudly. 

Ian could only nod in agreement. It was a good idea, keeping the squirrel fund going. “Yeah, okay, sounds like a good idea, never know when you need something to fall back on.”

“Exactly.” Fiona said. She passed over the plate of garlic bread to Ian who took a piece and passed it to Lip. 

Ian looked around the table and smiled. Living so far away, he’d forgotten how great it felt sitting down with his family, sharing good food, and talking about their day.

#

Mickey was exhausted. He hadn’t been home in three day, hell he’d barely even slept in three days, but he’d finally caught the fucker, in the middle of committing another crime no less.

Weary feet made their way up the steps to his house. He sniffed under his arms and knew a bath was the first thing he needed. Well, after Ian anyway. He hadn’t seen or talked to the ginger since his skip had come in. He’d sent text messages letting the other man know he was all right, but other than that nothing. Mickey put the key in his door and prayed like hell he’d have a naked Ian Gallagher lying in his bed. 

He checked the wall clock as he walked in, 12:30, shit. If Ian was here he was probably sleep. Mickey walked into his bedroom to see Ian sitting up in bed, a pair of boxes on, papers thrown all over the place. 

“Still getting stuff right for the gym I see.”  
Ian’s head snapped up and his face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Mickey,” he said barely above a whisper. 

Mickey laughed, taking his shirt off and throwing it across the floor before crawling across Ian’s many papers and coming to rest between the other man’s legs. “Miss me?” he asked.

Ian’s answer was to roll him over and straddle his hips. Mickey reached up, pulling Ian by the back of the head, and crashing their lips together. The kiss was needy and desperate and Mickey couldn’t get enough. Days, he’d went days without this. How the fuck had he survived? Sweet and tangy, Ian tasted like everything he loved and Mickey knew if he didn’t stop now, he’d never get up. He still needed to take a shower, as smelling like three-day grime was not an aphrodisiac.

He broke the kiss and gently pushed on Ian’s chest. “Hold that position, let me take a shower and I’ll be right back.” 

Ian shook his head and proceeded to suck on Mickey’s collarbone, making him feel lightheaded and weak in the knees all at once. “Fuck that. I want you dirty,” he said ripping Mickey’s pants off and kissing down his stomach. 

“Fuck.” Only Ian could make him feel this way. Fuck the shower. Fuck everything else. The only thing Mickey wanted was currently eating him like a piece of candy. He threw his head back and closed his eyes, lost in sensations he knew he couldn’t find anywhere else. “Oh, God,” he said as Ian wrapped his lips around his dick and swallowed him whole. 

#

The next day saw Mickey with the entire Gallagher clan, plus Kev and Vee at Ian’s gym. Mickey was sore as shit. Damn if Gallagher hadn’t shown him how much he’d been missed. He’d finally let him take a bath after round three, breaking out the oil and massaging every inch of Mickey’s tired body, focusing on stressed and overworked muscles. 

Mickey looked across the room and saw Ian deep in conversation with Lip and Derrick. He felt something inside him melt. The other man had been so lovely and gentle last night giving all his attention to Mickey and taking none for himself. 

No one had ever treated him that way. Never. Hell, he’d never allowed himself to be vulnerable enough to let anyone see that side of him.  
But Ian was just different. He was just…well shit. Mickey let out a long sigh as he tried to put into words what Ian meant to him. He was just… everything, he finally decided. And just like that, he felt something flutter across his heart as his breath came out in a rush. Fuck. Was this what it felt like to fall in love? 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look like that.”

Mickey turned to see Carl standing beside him smiling. “Like what,” he asked, already sensing he wasn’t going to like the answer he received. 

Carl looked to Ian, then back at Mickey. “Smitten.”

Mickey looked to Ian, a soft smile on his face. “Shit, whatever, man. I just got back from a three day hunt.” 

Carl nodded, always willing to talk about bounty hunting. “You get’em?”

Mickey laughed. “That even a question, man? Got a pretty good bounty too. Thought I’d invest a little in this place, haven’t talked to Ian about it though.” He’d thought about it alot while he’d been gone. There was so much Ian wanted to do and a bigger budget would certainly go a long way to making it happen.

Carl looked to where Ian was conversing with Debbie. She’d pretty much taken over the décor of the place, giving it a fitness theme with a hard edge. “Ian likes to do shit himself. Maybe let him ask you first, alright.”

“Yeah, alright.” He’d figured as much. He gave Carl one last look, then walked in on the tail end of a conversation where Ian, Debbie, and Lip were laughing about someone name Jimmy/Steve/Jack/Sean. 

“Who? What the fuck is a Jimmy/Jack, What?”

Ian turned to him and smiled. “I can’t believe I didn’t tell you about him.” He looked over to where Fiona and Onion were laying mats down on the floor. “Old boyfriend of Fiona’s, not good for her. He kept leaving and every time he came back he was a different person with a different name.” 

Mickey scoffed. It was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “What? How is that even possible?”

Ian put a hand around his waist and pulled him close. Mickey pushed him off, trying hard not to sigh from the heat of it in front of the other Gallagher siblings. Now was certainly not the time for that type of shit. Ian just laughed and pulled him close again. Fucker. He knew Mickey couldn’t resist him for too long. 

Lip looked back to Fiona. “He groveled like hell when he came back as Jack and she forgave him. He gets himself into more trouble, leaves, then comes back again, and surprise we’ll suppose to call him Sean now. Ian was home on leave. Me, him, and Carl beat him down in the front yard, haven’t heard from him since. God only knows how many names he’s got now.” 

Mickey shook his head. Would this family ever stop surprising him? 

“I think everything’s on track to open the doors Monday morning.” Derrick walked up and went to stand beside Debbie. “What do ya think, Red?”

Mickey leaned into Ian’s touch, not at all ashamed to admit that the contact had a grounding affect on him. “Why you keep calling her Red?” he asked the other man.

“Cause he wants me to knock his fucking teeth out.” Carl walked up popping his knuckles, causing Debbie to smack him lightly on the arm.

Mickey looked to Ian who seemed equally confused. 

Carl took in their puzzled faces and gritted his teeth. “He calls her red because she’s red hot, especially in bed. But, seriously, who the fuck says shit like that about somebody’s sister, to their face?” Mickey looked Derrick up and down. Shit, the fucker was braver than he’d thought.

The horrified look on Ian and Lip’s faces was enough to have Mickey laughing for days. What was even funnier, was the way all three Gallagher boys, seemed to puff their chest out and form a line in front of Derrick. Like he was supposed to take it back or some shit. The other man instantly paled and Mickey figured maybe he wasn’t so brave after all. 

Liam had been on the other side of the room, but quickly jogged over looking from his brothers to Derrick and finally falling in line beside Carl. “Do I need to get the bat?” he asked, maybe a little too excitedly. 

Derrick pointed a thumb toward the back. His voice shook with the nervousness his must have felt. “I… I’m just going to go wash down some equipment or something.” Before they could even blink, he was on the other side of the room.

As soon as he was out of sight all five Gallagher siblings burst out laughing. Debbie looked toward the direction he’d ran and shook her head, a small smile still on her lips. “Hey, gotta keep him on his toes right?” 

Fiona walked up, hands on her hips, confused expression on her face. “What the hell did you guys do to Derrick?” 

All six Gallagher’s were now talking at once and Mickey took the opportunity to pull Ian to the side. “Hey, did good on that last skip. How bout I take everybody out tonight? Thank them for helping out and shit. I mean the place is going to open on time you must be excited, yeah?” They’d put in the work. Him, Ian, and Derrick mostly, but everyone had helped when they could, especially Liam and Debbie. He knew Ian appreciated it and he wanted to show that he did too. Also it would make Ian happy, and that’s all that ever really mattered anyway.

Ian grabbed his hips, a silly smile on his face. Mickey smiled back and wrapped his hands around Ian’s neck, not caring if the others were looking or not. Ian placed a quick kiss on the side of his mouth and Mickey had to fight the urge to deepen it. “Yeah, we could do that, but umm, you helped out more than anybody, so umm, how I’m gonna thank you, huh?” 

Ian had that cheeky grin on his face and Mickey shivered as warm breath tickled his cheek. “I don’t know, tough guy, but, um, I’m sure we can think of something.”

Ian crashed their mouths together and Mickey lost all sense of reasoning. He pulled him closer and snaked his hands under Ian’s shirt. Hard muscles full of sweat greeted him and he dipped his head ready to start licking when a booming voice stopped him cold. 

“Hey, Hey, Hey, break it up, there’re kids in here.” Mickey looked over to see Kevin and V coming from the back. They’d been gone for awhile and both seemed to be adjusting clothes and patting down hair. He didn’t even want to know what they’d been up too. He’d just have to help Ian disinfect everything later.

Kevin pointed across the room to where their twin girls and little boy were sitting on some mats all engrossed in a game of Uno. Mickey had been confused about this since he’d started hanging out with Carl. All three kids looked just alike, yet their ages overlapped and he knew they weren’t triplets. The boy was the oldest. He’d never asked, kind of figured the answer would make him want to burn his eyes out or some shit.

“You look confused.” 

He looked up to see Ian watching him closely. “Don’t worry bout it. I don’t even wanna know.” 

Ian laughed and hit Mickey with that look that said all the things that words couldn’t. “Probably a good policy around here, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

#

Mickey laughed as Ian fell back on the bed, a silly, drunk smile on his face. He pulled Mickey down with him, wrapping his arms around the shorter man, and kissing the side of his neck. “Thank you. We had fun, right? He asked sitting up a little. “I mean, I had a blast, but you had fun too, right? With my family, you had a good time?” 

Mickey took in the overanxious look on Ian’s face and nodded. “Yeah, man, I had a good time. I always have a good time with your people, been hanging out with Carl for awhile now, remember.”

Ian sat up, feet dangling off the side of the bed. “It’s important to me that they like you, you know. I want them to like you.” He laughed as if he couldn’t believe the words he was saying. “I want, you to be comfortable around them. It’s important to me. If you’re ever not just tell me and we can-“

“Hey, Hey, Hey,” Mickey cut him off with a kiss, pulling him all the way back on the bed and laying his head on Ian’s chest. “No worries. We’re cool, all right? Everything’s cool. I love your family, man. They’re like a slightly less wacked out version of my own.”

Ian kissed the top of his head. “We still going over to Mandy’s tomorrow?”

“Yeah, she wants to cook us dinner or something." Mickey was surprised at how well Mandy had taken to Ian. Apparently they’d been friends back in high school and for the life of him, Mickey couldn’t figure out how he’d missed out on that. 

Iggy, while not as warm and accepting as Mandy, at least made an effort to get along with Ian. He’d made peace with the fact that his brother was gay a long time ago, unlike other family members who Mickey didn’t even want to waste time thinking about it. 

He guessed it was the fact that Iggy had never really seen him with another guy and so it was easier to accept. He usually keep his activates to the dark of night. They’d never meet anyone he’d been with. He’d never had a boyfriend so they’d never really gotten to see that side of him. Still Ian seemed comfortable around him and that’s all that mattered. “Hey,” he said, looking up to see the redhead already half asleep. 

“Hmm, Mick?” drowsiness laced every syllable.

“It’s important that my family like you too.” Ian responded with a sleepy smile wrapping his arm even tighter around Mickey’s back. 

#

Mandy cooked spaghetti. Mickey looked at Ian and laughed. “Didn’t Fiona just cook the same shit? What the hell’s up with the spaghetti love, man?”

Ian made a zipping motion across his lips. “Hey, I haven’t said a word. In my opinion you can never have too much spaghetti.” He winked at Mandy as she walked by and whacked him on the arm with her dishtowel. 

“Iggy coming?” Mickey asked putting the pack of beer he and Ian brought into the fridge.”

Mandy shrugged. “Suppose to. But we’re not waiting. Hand me some plates.”

Mickey reached in the cabinet and got down four plates. Iggy was never one to miss a free meal so he was pretty sure he’d be here.

Sure enough, no soon as they’d sat down he came bursting through the door, a 12 pack of beer stuck firmly under his arm. 

Mickey pointed to the empty seat. “Already fixed your plate, man, all you gotta do is sat down and eat.”

“Thanks, bro,” Iggy held up his hand and him and Mickey fist pumped before digging into their food.  
“You know, Mandy,” Ian said once they’d finished eating and were sitting in the living room pretending to watch some shit on TV. “Maybe you and Iggy would like to join us next Friday night.”

Mandy looked from Mickey to Ian. “Join you doing what?”

Ian took a swig of beer. “Well, me, my brothers, and Mickey, always go out on Friday’s. You know, eat a little food, get a little drunk. I could introduce you to Lip, something tells me you two would get along well.”

Iggy inhaled his cigarette. “Fuck, I’m down for it. Just let me know when, alright.” 

Mandy shook her head. “Nah, I got better shit to do than watch a bunch of grown ass men falling down drunk. Oh and about Lip, been there, done that, moved on.” 

Ian choked on the beer he’d just swallowed. “You and Lip?”

Mandy nodded, a small smirk on her lips. “Back in high school.”

The startled look on Ian’s face was almost too much to bear, but something told Mickey the redhead wouldn’t appreciate it if he fell over with laughter. 

“You never said anything.” Ian shook his head still not able to wrap his mind around the idea of Lip and Mandy.

“Wasn’t my business to tell, it was his.”

“Ain’t stopping you from telling it now though, is it?” Mickey asked. 

Mandy held up her middle finger. “It was a long time ago, doesn’t even matter anymore.” She got up and walked to the next room and the look on her face made Mickey wonder if maybe it meant a little more than she was letting on.

“So, Mickey tells me you’re opening your own gym?” Iggy looked to Ian with a raised eyebrow.  
Mickey held his breath. This was the first time Iggy had ever willing started a conversation with the ginger. 

The look on Ian’s face said he was as surprised as Mickey. Still, it was hard to miss the spark that lighten Ian’s eyes at the thought of Mickey’s brother finally warming up to him. Mickey could only pray it would last. He didn’t want to see Ian hurt. Not for any reason.

“Yeah, should be opening Monday.”

Iggy turned to his brother. “So now that Gallagher here got his own gym, what you planning on doing with all those weights and shit you got cluttering your spare room?”

Mickey shook his head. Iggy would never change. Always looking for an angle. Mickey wouldn’t take him any other way. “Forget it, man.” He inhaled a little from his smoke before handing it off to Ian, and turning back to his brother. “I don’t have a spare room. I’ve got a bedroom, a office, and a weight room. You not getting my shit, man. You can forget it.” 

Iggy nodded as if this was the answer he’d expected all along. “Well, shit, do I at least get a family discount at the gym?” he asked Ian.

Mickey didn’t know if Iggy was playing games or if he was really starting to accept Ian. He hoped it was the latter because judging from the smile Ian was trying and failing to hide, it would break his heart if Iggy suddenly turned on him. Of course, then Mickey would probably have to break Iggy’s face, but that was beside the point.

“It’s already on the books.” Ian passed the cigarette back to Mickey. “You, Mandy, Mickey, my brothers, my sisters, and their boyfriends or husband in Fiona’s case, Kev and V, even Shelia if she wants to give it a whirl.” 

Mickey’s head snapped up. He hadn’t known Ian had done that, he certainly hadn’t asked or even expected him too. Mickey crossed his arms in front of him and figured Ian Gallagher didn’t play fair. There was no way he could come out of this with his heart intact if the other man kept doing shit to make him fall deeper every day. Keeping your lover on his toes must have been a Gallagher trait or some shit. 

“Thanks, man.” Iggy held up his hand and gave Ian a fist pump and Mickey made a mental note to do something nice for his brother in the near future. “Can’t make no money if you let everybody in for free, though.”

Ian laughed and shook his head. “We, got it under control. Place was only empty bout six months. Liam mailed out flyers, the response from that was decent enough. Already got a good many sighed up for membership, paid and all.” He paused to inhale a little smoke. “People just glad they got a gym close by in the neighborhood again, you know.”

Ian could think what he wanted, but Mickey knew it was more than that. The redhead had put in a lot of work and it was now paying off was how Mickey saw it. Ian had run a successful gym before, but Washington wasn’t Chicago and so it wasn’t as easy as others seemed to think. Ian worked hard and he needed to know that.

Mickey stood up to stretch, then went to take a seat beside his boyfriend. “No business is as good as its leader, right? You worked hard, man. Take the fucking credit and shut the fuck up about all that other shit.” Ian just ducked his head, a sheepish grin on his face. 

Mandy walked back in looking a little better than when she’d walked out. She threw a pack of cards, a pen, and a notebook on the table. “Alright, douchebags, let’s play some fucking spades.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should be up in a couple of days. It's 10k so I might split it into two chapters, not sure yet. Thanks for reading!


	3. chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian thinks someone is after him, Mickey goes into protective mode.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to split this one in two.

“What you doing still up?” Mickey walked into the living room where Ian sat looking at a blank TV screen. He’d rolled over for some loving, but instead of a warm body, he’d found a cold empty space.

“Just thinking.” Ian said, looking distracted. 

Something about the redhead’s posture, and the way his leg wouldn’t stop jingling, set off alarm bells. He took a seat beside Ian, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. “We need to make another doctor’s appointment? Maybe switch your med’s up?” Ian didn’t like talking about it and Mickey hated bringing it up, but some things he couldn’t just let slide, Ian’s health was at the top of that list. 

Ian shrugged, looking not sure of anything. “I don’t know, Mick. For the last couple of days, I’ve had the strangest feeling that someone’s following me.”

An arctic chill settled in Mickey’s heart and wouldn’t let go. What the fuck was Ian talking about? Was someone bothering him? Mickey allowed his thoughts to wonder. Thinking back, he hadn’t noticed any big changes in Ian that would suggest this had anything to do with his bi-polar. 

He knew he didn’t have much experience with it and so he could be dead wrong. But in his mind, if Ian thought someone was following him, then someone was fucking following him, and Mickey planned to find out why. 

Mickey tried to make his voice sound normal as his fist opened and closed repeatedly. “You have any idea what they look like? What kind of car they might be driving?”

Ian released a breath of air, his eyes a little more misty than before. “You don’t think I’m overreacting?”

Mickey gave in and ran a hand through Ian’s hair trying to communicate all of his feelings in that one touch. “I trust you, alright. If you say someone’s following you, then I believe someone’s following you. We just have to find out who and why, okay?”

Ian reached over, and grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together. The look on his face held, relief, gratitude, and awe, all mixed together. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice broken, and a small tear escaping from the corner of his eye. 

He turned his head quick, as if ashamed for Mickey to see him like that. Mickey blinked, as this was something new. Since when had Ian been ashamed to show emotions in front of him? 

Mickey lightly touched his face to bring his head back around. “What’s this about, huh?”

“I love you,” Ian said placing a small kiss on Mickey’s lips. “I just fucking love you, alright. You’re so good to me and I just… I just thought you should know that.”

Who knew three simple words had the power to make everything inside you come alive. Mickey’s heart sped up and he looked at Ian, to see the other man watching him with a very intent look on his face. He squeezed his hand, then leaned over to place another kiss on his boyfriend’s lips. “I love you too, but you already fucking know that.” He’d have to be blind not too. 

Ian nodded, a small chuckle breaking out amongst the misery. “Yeah, I fucking know that.” 

He stood up and reached out his hand to Mickey. “Come on, let’s go to bed. We’ll deal with this shit tomorrow.” 

#

The next night saw them with the rest of the Gallaghers at a neighborhood cookout on the Southside. It seemed like everywhere they looked, people were lighting up grills, popping beers, and playing horseshoes.

“Is Ian doing alright?” Mickey turned to see Lip firing up a cigarette beside him. 

“Yeah, he’s doing fine, why?”

Lip looked over to where Carl was showing Ian and Derrick some new knife he’d bought. “Just seems jumpy is all.”

Mickey felt every muscle in his body tense as he turned his attention back to Lip. “Yeah, well, he’s alright.” His voice was rough and hard, but he didn’t care, maybe Lip would get the point and fuck off. 

Lip gave him a hesitant look, then ducked his head, and decided to speak. “Do you know what an enabler is?”

Mickey stood up a little taller, rolling his shoulders in the process. “The fuck you getting at?”  
The other man gave him a blank stare. “You gonna make me spell it out?”

Mickey looked to Ian to make sure he was still occupied. Last thing he needed was to see his brother and boyfriend going at each other. “You better start spelling something, Gallagher, cause I ain’t liking where this is going. What the fuck you trying to say?” 

Lip looked toward his brother. “Nothing, look I’m just worried about him, is all. He been taking his medicine?”

“Man what the…” Mickey bit the corner of his bottom lip to keep from exploding. Ian wasn’t a child, but even still, there was no way in fuck Mickey would let him get away with not taking care of himself. 

Lip stared straight at him, looking as if he wished he were anywhere but there. “It’s important.” He stomped his cigarette under his shoe and took a couple of steps back as Mickey moved in closer.

His voice came out low and strained. “Yes, he’s been taking his fucking meds.” He thought back to all the times Ian had prayed he wouldn’t turn into his mother. Had made Mickey promise he’d get him help if things ever got that bad. “He knows what happens when he don’t, okay.”

Lip let out an exasperated sigh as he walked away. “Good, now how hard was that?”

Mickey watched him go, then walked over to Ian and Carl, his body tense, and his steps quick and hard. 

“You good?” Ian asked, as soon as he walked up. 

Mickey didn’t want to worry the redhead any more than he already had. “Yeah, You?”

Ian looked around the crowd and frowned. “I’m good.” It was obviously a lie but Mickey didn’t feel the need to call him on it just yet. 

Carl looked from one to the other before shaking his head. “I don’t even want to know.” He gave one final look between them, then walked off in the direction of Lip and Liam.

#

Ian was a ball of energy. Mickey had figured once they’d gotten home and away from the crowd, Ian would calm down. If anything, he was worse. Mickey sat on the couch and watched as his favorite redhead paced back and forth across the living room floor.

“I’m telling you, Mick, there was this guy there, white baseball cap.” Ian shook his head as he walked back and forward. “Every time I looked up he was watching me. No matter where I was, he was close by.” The look on his face begged Mickey to believe him. 

Mickey ran a frustrated hand through his hair, then grabbed Ian by the arm, bringing him to the couch to sit beside him. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Ian shrugged and looked down at his hands, his right leg jingling the whole time. “You were having such a good time, and I could’ve been wrong. I don’t think I was, but I didn’t really want to cause a scene if I didn’t have to, you know?”

Mickey knew getting mad right now wouldn’t help, so he attempted to bring down the anger that was trying desperately to claw its way to the surface. Who gave a fuck about causing a scene? If this was the guy that’d been following Ian they could have ended this shit tonight. “What he look like?” he asked, his voice clipped and hard. 

Ian looked at him in surprise, probably noticing Mickey’s barely concealed anger. “Tall, White hat, green shirt. Don’t know more pass that. I’m sorry, Mick. I know I should have said something earlier.”

Mickey thought about it for a minute. “You sure he wasn’t checking you out? I mean look at you. I wouldn’t be able to take my eyes off you either. You’re a freaking walking wet dream, man.” He’d hoped being silly would take some of the anger away. It wasn’t Ian fault this shit was happening to him, and Mickey knew he needed to show him that. He leaned over and placed a small kiss to his cheek. When the other boy didn’t respond, Mickey’s face formed a frown. He’d hoped to bring about a smile or something. Hell, he’d do just about anything to get that sad defeated look off his boyfriend’s face. 

Ian seemed to think about it. “I guess it could have been that, Mick. I was just so focused on the other thing. I didn’t even stop to think it might’ve just been somebody wanting a booty call.”

Mickey grabbed him by the face, placing a small kiss on his lips. “I got you, okay? No ones gonna hurt you as long as I’m around, alright?” He meant that shit more than he’d ever meant anything in his life. He’d protect Ian with everything he had, even from himself if what Lip said turned out to be truth. 

Ian’s faces softened and the only thing Mickey could see in his eyes was love. “Okay.” Long fingers curled in his hair as Ian brought their lips together again for a softer, sweeter kiss. His touch was like fire and he tasted like beer, cigarettes, and barbecue chicken. “Let’s go to bed.” Warm, hot breath tickled his lips and Mickey had to fight the urge not to have Ian right there on the couch.

“Come on,” Ian smirked as if he could read all the dirty thoughts running through Mickey’s mind. Hell, maybe he could, Mickey shrugged as he got up to follow Ian to the bedroom. 

#

“Hmm, I don’t smell nothing cooking,” Ian laughed. 

Mickey looked toward the Gallagher kitchen where Fiona, Deb, Derrick, and Lip were all sitting around the table. He decided to take a seat on the couch, not ready to deal with the family thing at the moment. Picking up a magazine off the table, he flipped through the pages as Ian walked on. 

“Hey, I thought we were having dinner?” he heard the redhead say. 

Mickey looked up to see Fiona stand to give her brother a kiss on the cheek. “Carl’s picking up KFC on his way home from work.”

Liam came down the steps with a bunch of DVD’s in his hand and Ian’s attention shifted to the windows. Crouching down and looking around, he seemed to be waiting for someone, but Mickey knew he was just making sure no one suspect was hanging around. 

Mickey put the magazine aside and prepared himself. This was precisely the reason he didn’t want to go into the kitchen. A bunch of questions about Ian’s mental state was not his idea of a fun night. Maybe he was wrong and maybe he should have been a little more concerned, but he believed Ian, he trusted him. If Ian said someone was following him then Mickey trusted Ian’s judgment to make that call. 

A silent look that passed between Lip and Fiona made his nostrils flare and Mickey knew he needed to rein it in. Ian was their brother and they loved him. He tried to put himself in their shoes, thinking of Iggy and Mandy, but the only conclusion he came to, was that he’d trust them until they gave him a reason not to. 

Carl came through the door and all was forgotten under the chomping of chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, mac and cheese, and corn on the cob. 

Fiona wiped her mouth with a napkin. “So, Ian, were you able to hire that new Zumba instructor that you wanted?” She licked her fingers and pushed her plate away, but frowned when she didn’t get an answer. 

Mickey looked over to see that Ian had turned around in his chair and was busy trying to look out the window. He tapped him on the leg to get his attention.

Ian gave off a startled, “Hmm?” before turning back around.

Mickey cocked a thumb across the table. “Fiona’s talking to you.”

“Hmm?” Ian asked, still clearly distracted. 

“Okay what the hell is going on?” Fiona asked her voice losing all traces of humor.

Ian looked at Mickey and then down at his hands. He shrugged then cocked his head to the side as if to say it was no big deal. “The past couple of days, I’ve just felt like somebody was following me. I can’t explain it. I mean, it’s almost like they want me to know that they’re there or something. Like a looming threat.” Ian stopped talking and shook his head. “I don’t know how else to explain it.” He looked around the table at his family and Mickey could tell that he was bracing himself for their reaction. 

Lip was the first to speak. Mickey could tell by the way his jaw tightened, that the other man was pissed. “Why the fuck didn’t you say something before? And who the fuck is it? Someone you knew in D.C.? Are you sure you’re not imagining this?” Mickey looked at Lip and felt like stabbing him in the eyeball with a fork for questioning Ian like that.

Ian’s eyes turned to storm clouds as he looked at his older brother. “I’m not fucking crazy.”

Lip looked just as angry. He sat up in his chair a little higher then leaned across the table toward Ian. “I never fucking said you were. I’ve never fucking thought you were. But, Ian, you’re bi-polar, and right now, you’re jumpy, you can’t sit still for longer than two minutes, and you’re acting paranoid as fuck. You tell me what the fuck I should think?”

Liam, who sat on the other side of Ian, put a hand on his brother’s arm, his face sad and mouth turned downward. “You wanna use my bat? You want me to come home with you?” his eyebrows furrowed in worry as he looked between his two older brothers. 

Mickey had to remind himself that no matter how mature, Liam was still just a 13-year-old little boy. He looked to Carl and raised an eyebrow. 

The other boy stood right away, motioning for Liam to follow him up the steps. “Come on, got some DVD orders for you while I was at work. I’ll give’em to you now before I forget.”

Liam got up, still looking unsure. “Do you want the bat, Ian?” 

Ian stood and pulled Liam into a hug. “Don’t worry about it, little man. I’ll be all right. Go get your movie orders from Carl, make you some money, okay.”

Liam squeezed him tight and Mickey could swear he saw a small tear escape down the youngest Gallagher’s cheek. “Let me know if you change you mind.” 

Mickey watched him go then turned around to see Fiona staring dead at him. She mouthed a silent, ‘thank you’, making him duck his head and maybe even blush a little. 

Debbie turned to her boyfriend. “Wonder what Kev and V are up to?”

He stood up, placing a small kiss on the side of her face. “Yeah, yeah, I’m going, Red. I’ll be back in about twenty minutes, that good?”

“Yeah, that’s good.” She had a small, fond smile on her face as she watched him close the door. 

“Smitten, much?” Mickey asked. He mostly wanted to lighten the mood and maybe give Ian something else to focus on.

“No more than you.” She folded her arms in front of her and pinned him with a look that dared him to disagree. 

Fiona started to clear the table, her movements quick and jerky. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. “Ian are you taking your meds? I’m not trying to start shit and I know you’re not a child, but you are my baby brother and I love you and I just don’t know what else to say.”

Ian answered, his face weary, and his voice resigned. “I’m taking my meds, Fi. It’s not that.”

She stared at him for a few seconds before nodding and getting the rest of the dishes up. “Okay. I believe you. I believe that you’re taking’em, but maybe there not working anymore?” 

Mickey had had enough. He looked at all the Gallagher siblings expect Ian. “Or maybe there’s some creepy as motherfucker out there following him and we need to put our heads together and figure out what the fuck is going on before someone gets hurt.” His voice increased a little in volume and he had to fight to keep it under control.

Lip shook his head, looking anything but convinced. “Okay then, if that’s what everyone wants to go with, fine.” He set his sights on Ian pointing his finger across the table. “But if we come up empty then you are going to the fucking doctor and I don’t give a damn what you say.” He turned to Mickey. “Or what you say either for that matter because enabling him is not helping him, okay?”

Mickey started to rise, but was stopped by Ian squeezing his hand tight, begging him to calm down. He drew in a few breaths before he allowed himself to speak, his voice hard and rough. “I can take care of him. If he’s sick, I can take care of him until he gets better. Think what you want, but that’s not what this is.”

Fiona put the last few dishes in the sink then sat back down. “Nobody’s doubting your devotion, Mickey, but we’ve just had more experience with this type of thing.” Her voice was pleading and her face was begging him to understand. He was sorry, but he just couldn’t do that. Ian needed him to be strong and strong was what he was going to be. 

Debbie walked around the table and reached for Ian’s arm, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I believe you,” She said, and Mickey felt like kissing her, if for nothing else, then for the truth that littered her voice. Ian smiled and wrapped a hand around her shoulder.

Lip took out a smoke and lit it up, his eyes hard as they stared straight though Mickey. “Have you ever dealt with anyone who was bi-polar? Did you even know what it was before Ian came along?”

Mickey felt his jaw clench, fucker was really testing his patience tonight. “The fuck that’s got to do with anything, huh? What’s that got to do with what’s going on right now?” He looked to Ian who was squeezing his hand even tighter. Mickey knew he needed to calm down, as Ian’s anxiety seemed to be rising by the minute. 

Lip shook his head, still not ready to give in. He got up, walked toward the living room, then came back to stand in front of the table. His body seemed to radiate with all the tension he must have felt. “I’ll take that as a no, but see we have. We’ve been dealing with it all our lives. We were born to it, our mother, wherever the fuck she may be, put us through…look just…” He looked to the floor in front of the kitchen sink, his eyes growing distance and dark. 

Mickey’s hands curled into fist and he looked down at them willing himself to stay cool. This was Ian’s family and they loved him. Mickey knew that, but somehow he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were trying to take Ian away from him. Their, ‘He needs help,’ and ‘he’s not taking his meds,’ sounded like they were gearing Ian up for a long stay in a mental ward and there was no fucking way Mickey was letting that shit go down.  
Lip continued talking. “If you’ve never been through it before, it’s almost impossible-,”

“Don’t fucking tell me what’s impossible!” Mickey roared. He was out of his seat in a second, his voice unreasonably loud even to his own ears. Lip took a couple of steps back, the look on his face one of shock and maybe a little fear. 

Mickey knew he needed to get a grip on his emotions. Liam was upstairs already scared as hell and this wasn’t helping. He ran a hand over his face in an effort to cool off. “Look, Gallaghers, I love your brother. I would never do nothing to hurt him. If I thought he needed help, I’d might sure he got it. If he ever stopped taking his med’s, I’d find out why and try to fix it. If he needs to see the doctor, I’ll fucking take him, and I won’t ever leave you in the dark, not ever, but I can take care of him. Let me take care of him, until this situation gets better. We just need to find out who’s following him because that’s all this is. It has nothing to do with him being bi-polar. It just doesn’t.” Mickey felt like he’d just gone ten rounds in the ring. He slumped back in his chair only to have Ian grab his hand, a grateful smile on his lips.

Everyone sat in shocked silence for a few seconds and then Lip turned to Ian. “This is what I want you to do. Tonight, when you get home, I want you to write down everything you can remember, even the smallest details. Keep pen and paper with you at all times and whenever you remember something, feel weird, or think someone’s following you; I want you to write it down. I’m talking everything. Where you’re at, what time of day it is, any cars that may be around. If there’s someone after you, we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Mickey finally felt like he could breathe again. He knew that Lip wasn’t completely convinced, but he was trying, and that’s all Mickey could ask for. 

Ian leaned over, his voice low and rushed. “Take me home. I’m ready to go home, okay?” 

Mickey nodded. “Okay.” He stood up, Ian doing the same. 

Fiona was the first to speak. “You’re leaving? You’re not leaving yet are you?” She looked from Ian to Mickey, her face saying, she couldn’t believe they were picking now to walk out the door. 

Ian walked over and placed a small kiss on her cheek. “I’m tired and I gotta be at the gym early tomorrow. You worry too much, Fiona.” He looked around the room. “All of you do. We’ll figure this out.” He looked to Lip, a sad sigh escaping his mouth. “Good idea about writing everything down. I’ll get started on that before I go to bed.” 

Mickey knew how hard this was for Ian. He wanted his family to trust him. He wanted them to believe him as Mickey did and it was heartbreaking that he had to fight just to convince them he was sane. Mickey reached out and grabbed a hold of sweaty, slick fingers. “Come on, let’s go home.”

#

Ian sat on the couch, his legs stretched out and a cold beer in his hand. It’d been a long day at the gym, but things finally seem to be coming together. He knew it would take awhile before he could build it like the one he’d had in Washington, but the fact that he had a ready made client list did make things better.

Mickey nudged him on the shoulder and Ian almost jumped from the contact. “Hey, you sleep over there.”

Ian felt his heart return to normal speed as he took a sip of his beer. “Fuck. You scared the shit out of me.” Mickey just laughed and so Ian continued on. “I’m just thinking about what else I can do to get my gym off the ground.”

Mickey seemed puzzled. “You been doing pretty good, right?”

Ian nodded. “A lot better than to be expected, but most of that is clients of the previous owner, happy to have somewhere to work out again.”

Mickey scoffed. “Well, they’re you’re clients now, so don’t worry about it.” 

Mickey’s phone rang for the third time that night, and just like the previous times, he picked it up, check the caller id, frown, and put it away again.

Ian rolled his eyes. “Answer the phone, Mickey.”  
Mickey shook his head. “They don’t want shit. I’ll talk to’em later.”

Ian knew exactly what this was. “Its work isn’t it?”

Mickey looked down at his phone refusing to meet Ian’s eyes. Ian let out a sigh. This is exactly what he didn’t want to happen. It was exactly why he’d waited so long to say something. “I won’t have you missing a skip for me, Mick. Think about how that’d make me feel. Knowing that you’re losing money because you’re scared to leave me alone.” Just the thought of it made Ian’s stomach turn. 

Mickey looked up, his voice feeble and non-convincing. “I’m not, look, someone’s after you. I just want to find out who, is all.”

Ian wasn’t having it. “For the last three days, I’ve written down every single thing I can think of and still nothing makes sense. I’m a crack shot. I’ve been trained in hand-to-hand combat. I’ve got three brothers here, plus Kev, Derrick, and Onion. I’ll be all right.” He let his voice go soft. “I’ll even go stay with Fiona, Carl, and Liam until you get back, if that’ll make you feel better.

Ian could tell from the look on Mickey’s face that he still wasn’t convinced. He lay his head on the other man’s shoulder. “Don’t do this,” he said his voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t make me feel like this. Go get your skip. I’ll be all right. I know that you don’t want to go and I know that you’re concerned about me, and I love you for that, but please, don’t let your work slip. I don’t wanna be responsible for that, so just go, okay.” He didn’t know how to make it any clearer. 

Mickey ran a tender hand across his face, then brought their lips together for a kiss. “I love you, alright? I’ll fucking go, because you want me to and it’s important to you. I just need you to know that ain’t no skip in the world mean more to me than you do.”

Ian smiled and leaned in for another kiss. “You don’t think I know that? I’ll be fine, now go get your man, woman, target, whoever,” he laughed. 

Mickey didn’t look happy but Ian could tell he had him convinced. “I’m gonna have my phone on me the whole time. Call me if anything, I mean anything comes off.” He paused and ran a hand over his face. “If you feel uncomfortable in the slightest- “

Ian cut him off with a kiss. “I’ll be alright. Call your job, and I’ll pack a bag to go to Fiona’s. It’ll be alright, you’ll see.” 

#

Ian threw his gym bag on his back. Seemed like he always stayed later than anyone else. He couldn’t help making sure all the machines were wiped down, the TV’s turned off, and everything set for the morning rush. Locking the door behind him, he’d only made it a few feet up the road when three guys came from around the back of the building. 

Two were from the neighborhood. Though he didn’t really know them, he’d seen they’re faces around enough to know they were straight Southside. The other he also recognized, as white hat, green shirt, from the cookout. Suddenly closing the gym alone didn’t seem like such a good idea after all. 

Before he could make a move, white hat started to speak. “Ian Gallagher, right? Carl Gallagher’s big brother, Mickey Milkovich’s best friend?” The man was practically crackling with energy.

Ian dropped his bag and rolled his shoulders, preparing for what he knew was coming. “Yeah, who wants to kno-,” they were on him before he even finished the sentence, all three of them.

The one on the right threw a punch to his face and Ian rocked back from the force of it, his jaw stinging from the contact. At the same moment, the one in the middle went for his stomach. Ian tried not to double over as every bit of air left his lungs. His breath made an ‘oomph,’ sound as it left his body and Ian knew the time for playing was over. 

He came in hard and fast putting a firm fist to white hat’s face. The crunching sound along with the immediate blood flow let him know he’d broken the fucker’s nose. After that it was complete chaos, as all three of them redoubled their effort to take him down. Kicks and hits came from all sides and Ian did his best not to fall. Blow after blow send his head spinning and he staggered more than once but still he held on. 

He knew without doubt once he hit the ground it was over and they’d fucking demolish him. He fought blindly, throwing fist in every direction, sometimes connecting, sometimes not. His years in the military seemed to come flying back, guiding his hands faster than his mind could keep up.

A step back too fast had him hitting the ground and that’s when he heard the gunshots. Dazed and a little confused he sat up quickly, his body aching and sore from the beaten he’d just taken. 

Wiping blood out of his eyes, he realized the shots came from two different directions. His attackers were already down the sidewalk, throwing off a few rounds themselves as they fled to get away. 

He looked to his left and saw Iggy, eyes hard, mouth tight, two guns in his hands, firing for all he was worth. He tried to wrap his mind around what the fuck he was even doing there, but gave up after only a few seconds. To the right was Carl, who also had two guns, a smirk on his face, and excitement in his eyes. He too was shooting at the retreating form of the three assholes. 

Ian felt the air leave his lungs as relief washed over him like a cool spring shower. Where the hell had Iggy and Carl come from? He stood up and immediately swayed to the left. His knees felt like jelly and every single part of him ached. Carl was there in an instant lending his arm for support. 

“Thanks, but, um, thought I told you I didn’t need any help closing the gym.”

The skeptical look on Carl’s face was enough to let him know how he felt about that statement.  
“Yeah, cause you were doing so well from down there.” He pointed to the ground. “Just wanted to watch your back, make sure you got home ok.” 

Ian nodded. He realized that had it been allowed to go on, it could have been alot worse. He’d certainly been up against worse. Hell, this was almost like a walk in the park compared to some of the battles he’d fought in. 

Iggy tucked his guns away and wiped a bit of sweat from his eyebrow. “Promised Mickey I’d look after you while he was gone. Didn’t know I’d be bringing out my babies though. Wasn’t really trying to hit’em just wanted to get them the fuck off you.” 

Ian gave him a grateful smile to let him know he appreciated the back up. 

Carl nodded. “Yeah, what the fuck was that about anyway? You know’em?”

Ian picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He noticed the white hat laying off to the side and picked it up as well. “Guy wearing this was at the BBQ, watching me the whole time.”

Carl scoffed and took the bag from him. “And you didn’t say anything?”

More blood trickled down his face and Ian knew he had an open cut somewhere. He wiped it away then looked at Carl. “I couldn’t be sure. Shit. Fuck it. Come on. Let’s go back to the house and figure this shit out.” He turned to Iggy. “Thanks for the back up, man, good looking out.” 

Looking to Carl, he just grimaced. “You too, even though I told you to stay away. What if one of those bullets had hit you? What then, huh?” He ruffled his little brother’s hair, trying to take some of the sting out of his words. 

Carl smacked his hand away with a silly smirk on his face. “I do this shit for a living, man. Or did you forget how me and Mickey met?”

Ian wiped more blood away and a feeling of lightheadedness began to descend upon him. He leaned on Carl a little more, knowing it was the only thing keeping him upright. “I didn’t forget. I’m starting to think that that’s what this is all about.”

Carl held him tight. “Huh?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion. 

Ian didn’t want to get into it right there. He needed to sit down. His head was pounding and every breath was painful. “Look, let’s just get back to the house. Iggy you coming? Good. Let’s go.”

Ian groaned when they pulled to the Gallagher house and he saw all the lights on. He turned to Carl. “When did you call them?”

Carl held up his phone, moving it from side to side. “Didn’t. I texted them. Lip and Debbie should be here soon.”

Ian tried not to overreact. “Why would you do that, Carl?”

“It’s a family problem. So we need the family to help solve it.” He said it as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Ian tried to slam the door as he got out the car, but he was too weak for it to have any effect. “Liam had better still be asleep. He don’t need to be woken up for this shit.”

Carl snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s the first person Fiona ran too.”

Ian entered though the kitchen and walked forward to the living room, Iggy and Carl right behind him.

He collapsed on the couch, relived to finally be sitting on something soft and comfortable. Ian was sure that Iggy and Fiona knew each other from around the neighborhood but he made the introductions anyway. 

She nodded once at Iggy then went to get a pack of peas out the freezer. He looked at the table and saw that she already had out bandages, peroxide, and alcohol. He groaned as he thought back to scraped knees and bloodied legs, and knew it was best to just let her work her magic.

She started on him just as Lip and Deb burst through the door. “You came together?” Fiona asked.

Lip looked like a man possessed. He smoked the cigarette dangling from his lips, as if it had done him harm, as he paced up and down the living room floor. “Didn’t want her coming out alone.”

Ian slid over as Deb came to sit on the opposite side of him. “Where’s Derrick?”

Lip paused in his smoking to answer. “Sleep, this is none of his business.” He turned to Iggy. “What the fuck is he doing here?”

Ian winced as Fiona put alcohol to that open spot on his face. “Shit. That burns.” He looked up at his enraged brother. “He helped scared them off, Lip, calm the fuck down.”

Lip gave Iggy a small head nod. “Good looking out, man. Here, want a smoke.” He handed him one out the pack before turning back to his siblings. “So what the fuck we gonna do?”

“You could sit down,” Debbie offered. Lip nodded and took a seat on the couch.

Iggy held his phone up in front on him. “Maybe we wait for Mickey. He’s on the way.” 

Ian’s head snapped up. “You texted him?” Damn. He’d hope to keep this away from the other man as long as possible. Mickey was going to go bat shit and Ian didn’t know if he had the strength to rein him in. 

Iggy lit up his newly acquired smoke. “Yep,” he said in the most matter-of-fact voice Ian had ever heard him speak in. 

Ian resisted the urge to strangle him. They’d had enough violence for one night, probably. “Well did he at least get his skip, before you pulled him away from his job?”

Iggy snorted and looked at Ian as if he’d grown two heads. “You really think that’s what he’s worried about right now? Some fucking lowlife or finding the motherfuckers who hurt you. Fuck you think?”

Ian had to agree. He knew Mickey well enough to know that nothing could have kept the other man away. “Well then we wait.”

Mickey came through the door about an hour later. Ian took in his dusty, sweaty appearance and knew the other man must having been working extra hard just so he could get home that much faster. He took one look at Ian and his fist seemed to curl in on themselves. “You see who did it?”

Ian nodded. “White hat ,I told you about. The other two are Southside, grew up seeing’em all the time. Don’t really know their names, but if I think hard enough, I might remember where I seen’em before. Find their hang out spots, shit like that.”

Mickey’s shoulders rose and fell with the anger he was barely able to contain. He paced back and forth across the floor, grunting every few seconds as words seem to fail him. He finally stopped and turned heated eyes on Ian’s swollen face. “What they say to you?” 

Ian shrugged and his shoulder ached from the movement. There really wasn’t much to tell. “They asked me about you and Carl, then they attacked.” He didn’t know what else to say.

Mickey seemed satisfied. He turned to the younger Gallagher and pointed. “Must be somebody we put away together. You go through your notes here and I’ll go through mine at home. We’ll see who’s been let out and who’s still locked up. This is good. We can work with this.” He ran a pissed off hand over his face but his expression softened when he turned to Ian. “You good to go?”

Ian looked to Fiona, who nodded that she was finished patching him up. He stood and Mickey immediately grabbed him by the waist. He leaned into his boyfriend’s touch, loving the comfort that it brought him. Nothing in the world felt as good as Mickey’s arms wrapped around him and Ian instantly felt a little better.

Lip stood up as well. He was on his fifth cigarette since he’d gotten there and showed no signs of slowing down. “Wait. What the fuck? You’re leaving?”

Mickey nodded, his agitation growing by the second and Ian knew he needed to get him outta there before he exploded altogether. “Yeah, I want to start on this shit tonight. Ain’t no need in waiting.” He turned to Carl. “I know you got work tomorrow, but do what you can now. Let me know something.” 

“I’m on it,” Carl said, his voice solemn and serious. 

Mickey looked to Iggy. “Good looking out, man. I owe you one.”

Iggy shook his head. “Nah, man, you don’t owe me shit. He’s fucking family, yeah?”

Ian watched some of the anger drain out of Mickey as he looked at his brother. “Yeah, he’s fucking family.” He grabbed Ian by the hand. “Come on, let’s go home.”


	4. Chapter 4 (3.2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey wants revenge. Ian wants Mickey to just let it go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all kudos and comments, it means a lot.

Ian held his head in his hands as Mickey paced back and forward across the floor, barking orders and checking names off a list. As soon as they’d step outside the Gallagher house, the other man had grabbed him tight and held on. Ian knew he’d scared him and he felt bad about him having to miss him skip, but Mickey wouldn’t hear of it. To him this was the most important thing in his live right now.

Mickey hung the phone up and came to where Ian lay slumped on the couch. He crouched on the floor until they were eye level. His voice was soft when he spoke. “Hey, why don’t you go to bed? I’m probably going to be at this all night. No need of us both missing sleep, huh?” he ran a gentle hand through Ian’s hair. “Come on, I’ll feel better if I know you’re resting.”

Ian could tell the other man was stressed, but more than that, he blamed himself. He stood, bringing Mickey up with him. He pulled him by the waist until they were face to face. “Mickey, listen to me. What happened, it wasn’t your fault, no more than it was Carl’s. You know that right?”

The other man stared at him for a few seconds before pulling him into a long hard kiss. “Go to bed,” he said before pulling away roughly. 

“Mickey.”

“Look, let me do this alright? Let me…I need to do something.” He grabbed Ian by the face and kissed him again. “I can’t fucking…look, just like me take care of this. Don’t ask questions. Just let me do this for you, alright?” Ian wanted to crawl inside Mickey and make it all better, but he didn’t know what to do or say to make the other man feel okay with all this.

The look on his face was absolutely heartbreaking and Ian found himself fighting back tears. He needed to make it better. He needed for Mickey to know that it was okay, that he was okay, and that none of this was his fault. For now though, he’d give him his space. He reached over and placed a small kiss to his lips. “I’ll go to bed, but you wake me up if you need anything, okay? I mean anything, Mickey. You don’t have to do this alone, you know.”

Mickey nodded already turning toward his office, phone coming up to his ear. Ian sighed. They needed to find out what was going on soon, for both his and Mickey’s sanity. 

#

Ian woke to a warm hand on his arm and an only slightly less stressed Mickey looking down on him. “Rise and shine, Cinderella, time to get up. Got some good news. Come on, breakfasts waiting.” 

Ian blinked his sleep heavy eyes, then stretched his hands above his head pulling Mickey back down with him. He sniffed the other man’s neck. “Hmm, you smell like breakfast.” Mickey tried to laugh, but it came out hollow and distracted. 

Ian sighed when the other man placed a kiss to his temple. “That’s because I’ve been rutting around in bacon all morning. Come on man, time to roll, you don’t want it to get cold. I already got your coffee set out and everything.” 

Ian groaned but allowed himself to be pulled from the bed, the smell alone enough to quicken his steps toward a Mickey made breakfast. Mickey made breakfasts were the best.

He looked down at the table to see, eggs, an omelet, just the way he liked, if the bits of ham, cheese, and onion sticking out were any indication. His mouth watered involuntary as he took in the side of bacon, potatoes with onion, a cup of coffee and a glass of orange juice sitting off to the side. 

He looked up to see Mickey watching him, a slightly anxious look on his face. Did he really think that Ian would be disappointed with such a show of love? Ian let an easy grin spread across his face as he looked at his grumpy boyfriend. “Come here.” He grabbed the other man by the waist and inhaled his freshly showered scent. “You know I love this, right? You didn’t have to, but I’m glad you did.” He placed a soft kiss to his collarbone, to hold him until he could thank him properly. 

Mickey did what he always did when complemented, avoided eye contact, shrugged, and basically acted as if it was no big deal. “Yeah, man, whatever. Just eat it before it gets cold, alright.” 

Ian took a seat at the table and inhaled the smell of all his favorites in front of him. He sighed when he saw Mickey standing off to the side biting on a thumbnail. “So, you seem a little better than you did last night. Hmm?” It wasn’t really a question and they both knew it. 

Mickey didn’t answer, just filled his plate with scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. “No pancakes?” Ian looked toward the stove but saw it was empty of anything else. 

Mickey popped a piece of bacon in his mouth and looked at Ian with tired eyes. “Nah, just wanted to give you your favorite.” Ian felt his heart melt just a little more. Say what you would about Mickey Milkovich, but when he was in, he was all the way in. There was no in between with him. When he loved, it was hard, it was furious, and it was everything Ian wanted in his life.

Ian took a sip of coffee and brought up the subject they’d both been avoiding all morning. “So what you find out?”

Mickey shrugged. “Carl and I both went through our files. Most guys we caught together were in for big time, so most are still in there. Two are dead and only three have been released.” He paused to pop a piece of bacon in his mouth and take a sip of coffee. “Had Iggy and Carl both put their ears to the ground last night.”

Ian, was in the middle of gabbling up some eggs, but looked up when it seemed that Mickey was through talking. His heart clinched when he saw the myriad of emotions playing across his lovers face. Whatever it was he probably wasn’t going to like it. Ian dipped his potatoes in some ketchup, anything to distract himself from the war that seemed to be going on in Mickey’s mind. Ian knew he wasn’t really known for his patience, but he’d try his best to give Mickey the time he needed to get his thoughts together. 

“None of the guys out had anything to do with this according to Iggy and Carl’s guys. Word on the street is white hat’s younger brother, kid no more than 18, went down for robbery. Seemed like a good kid, first offense. He’d just graduated, wanted to finally fit in or some shit.” Mickey sat back in his seat and pushed his plate away. “Judge could have let him off with probation, gave him 20 years instead.”

Ian choked on his coffee. “What the fuck? Are you serious right now?”

Mickey raised an eyebrow. “Nah, I made it all up, look the kid got a bum rap, but it’s not my job to judge. I picke’em up and I bring’em in. Me and Carl caught this one together.” Mickey gave a disbelieving shake of the head. “But, man, what the fuck he run for? Judge might have let him get away with doing only six months or some shit, if he hadn’t turned rabbit. You know fucking judges hate that shit.” 

Ian dipped more potatoes in ketchup and stuffed them in his mouth before answering. “So how does hurting me help his brother or is it just about hurting you and Carl?”

Mickey’s jaw tightened. “Word is he thought about going after Mandy first, but Terry Milkovich’s name is still something to be feared. They don’t speak, Mandy and my dad, not really, but no way in hell he would have let that shit go down without retaliation. Unmerciful retaliation. His only daughter. Me, my brothers, it would’ve been a fucking blood bath, and Dallas, that’s his name by the way, knew that and backed the fuck off. 

Ian shivered just to think about it. He was glad they’d never tried, because he had no doubt Mandy would have gone down fighting. The girl carried more weapons than anyone he knew. 

Mickey took his silence as a chance to pull his plate back and shove plenty of bacon and eggs in his mouth. It was a minute before he was able to talk again. He wiped his face with a napkin and looked up at Ian, who was busy finishing off his own plate. “Fucker had even thought about taking one of Carl’s girls, but he never keeps one for more than a couple of weeks, so no love lost there.” 

Ian thought about it for a minute, then sat back in his seat, his stomach filled, and head jumping in all directions. “So I was the Christmas present wrapped in bright red paper. He must have cum all over himself when he figured out I was important to you and Carl, huh?”

Mickey’s nostrils flared and his eyes seemed to blaze, all of this he tried to hide though, ducking his head, and playing with his folk. “Yeah, well he fucked up because I’m not letting this shit go.” 

Ian felt his stomach drop as a feeling of dread took over him. “Mickey, what did you do?”

Mickey stood up and pushed away from the table. His body was so tense that Ian figured just touching him would send him scattering into a million angry little pieces all over the floor. “I already got Iggy on it. Carl and his boys are off this completely. I made sure of that.” 

Ian felt his world slipping. “Mickey.”

“What?”

Ian didn’t even try to keep the pleading out of his voice. “It’s over, just let it go. They got their revenge. My face is fucked up a little, but other than that, come on, basic was worse than the beating they put down. I can stand to be black and blue for a few days, yeah?”

Mickey shook his head and wiped an angry hand over his mouth. “You’re not doing a very good job of pleading their case, and I’m not fucking letting this go.” His voice rose a little toward the end, but he didn’t even seem to notice. He walked over and placed a tender hand on Ian’s face, running rough, callous fingers softly over his bruises. Ian closed his eyes and soaked in the feeling of his boyfriend’s hand on his face. Was there anything in this life better than Mickey Milkovich? 

Mickey’s voice was low and dangerous when he spoke. “He’s going to fucking die and you can’t stop that, so don’t even try.” 

Ian closed his eyes and tried to think of what to say to make the other man see things his way. He grabbed Mickey by both hands, and pulled him even closer. “Mickey, listen to me, going after him puts us in danger, puts us in jeopardy. What if the wrong people got word? What if you got caught?”   
Ian kissed him behind the ear, letting his head linger there, soaking in his boyfriend’s scent. “I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you. I love you and if you give half a shit about me, Mickey, half, please, don’t do this.” The sting in his eyes, and the unmerciful clutching of his boyfriend’s shirt gave way to just how desperate he was for Mickey to drop this. 

Mickey paused for a second before trying to crawl into Ian’s skin. He wrapped both hands around his head and nestled into the crook of Ian’s neck.   
“He hurt you.”

Ian ran soft, lazy fingers through Mickey’s hair, he always loved the way it felt flowing through his fingers. “I know.”

“Touched you, made you bleed,”

Ian loved how protective Mickey was, but he’d give anything for him to just let this go. He didn’t want Mickey getting hurt, and if he pursued this, that’s precisely what could happen. “I’m fine now. You took care of me. You always take care of me.”

Mickey’s voice turned hard. “I want to fucking kill him.”

Ian sighed, both frustration and understanding coloring his words. “Can you just let it go though?”

Silence.

“Mickey?”

Mickey shook his head. “I’ll take a day to think about it, but after that…” he made a slicing motion through the air.

Ian could only watch helpless as Mickey turned away, shoulders taunt, back coiled, as he started to clear away the dishes. That was all the answer Ian needed. No way in hell was Mickey letting this go.

#

Mickey was in his office, chain smoking, and pacing when Ian slipped out the front door. He wasn’t as nonchalant about the whole thing as he appeared to be. He understood that Dallas needed to be dealt with. He just didn’t want Mickey getting himself in trouble. 

The problem with letting it go, was the next time it could be Deb, Liam, or Fiona they went after. He had to send a message. This shit here, fucking with him, or his family, all over a fucking skip, wouldn’t be tolerated. He’d called Carl while Mickey was still in the kitchen and found out all he needed to know, including where the asshole lived.

It was the typical rundown Southside house, in the typical Southside neighborhood. He started for the front door but stopped when he heard voices coming from the back. Baseball gripped tightly in his hand, he crept around the side of the house, taking care to stay hidden. 

The same three shitheads stood there, worry and agitation marking their every move. 

White hat was talking. “So are you sure it’s the Milkovich brother’s asking around? I thought Mickey didn’t bang with his brothers no more.”

The one on the right shrugged. “Blood is blood and now we have Milkoviches and Gallaghers gunning for our asses.” He smoked down the last of his cigarette and crushed it under his heel. 

“What the fuck we gonna do, man? No way can we go soft on this, but we ain’t got the man power. No way in hell we got the man power.” 

Ian had heard enough. He needed to stop this now before it become all out war. Gripping the bat with what was probably a very unhealthy amount of adrenaline; he went in hard, taking out lefty and righty before white hat, even knew what was happening. 

Yeah, he’d been out of the army for a while , but his training and experience never left him. A strike to righty’s knee and a quick hit to lefty’s ankle before the first man had even hit the ground, left him free to head butt the fuck out of Dallas, no trouble at all. The other man went down fast, blood spraying over everything. 

Ian looked at his handiwork, all three men down in a matter of seconds. It was no less than what he’d had to do everyday in basic. Lefty tried to get up but the bat to his knee left him rattling around on the ground calling out for help. 

Ian put a foot to Dallas’s throat and checked on righty who was still holding on to his knee. White hat lay choking and gasping and Ian eased up just a little. He shoved the bat in his face. “This ends now. Whatever beef you have with me, my brother, or, Mickey, ends now. I’m sorry about your brother but that has fuck all to do with me. Look, I know people in Washington. I’ll see what I can do, but that shit stays between you and me. Don’t need every Southside rat thinking they can get their family off with a little knuckle action.” 

Ian removed his foot, but still kept Dallas on the ground. “Not sure if they’ll be able to help him or not, but either way, this shit ends now.” He pointed the bat to righty, then to lefty. “Call off your dogs and stop these stupid vengeance or I promise you, it won’t just be the Milkovich and Gallagher brothers that come for you. In this neighborhood, try hiding from every cousin, aunt, uncle, or friend of ours. You’d be dead in an hour. My cousin Patrick would knife you in your sleep while his wife stood lookout. It’d be fun for them.”

Ian could hear angry voices coming from down the street. This shit had the potential to turn into a blood bath here and now. He turned back to Dallas. “Maybe they’re coming for me, maybe for you, apologize and end this now, so that we can all leave here alive.”

Ian stepped back and white hat gritted his teeth as he stood. Ian looked back to see Mickey, Carl, and Iggy, with a shit ton of guys behind them, cracking knuckles and swinging bats.

Dallas was straight Southside. He stood tall, head up and shoulders back. “Gonna talk to the people in Washington about my brother, right? His appeal is coming up. Maybe get him a better lawyer, yeah?”

Ian looked to where Mickey, Iggy, and Carl were coming fast and white hat followed his eyes. “This ain’t cause I’m scared. I ain’t nobody’s punk, family first and shit. I’m sorry, Ian.” He said the last part loud enough to stop all three men in their tracks. “I should have never come after you like that. I know you got nothing to do with nothing.” He put a hand to his face and rubbed. “Think you broke my fucking nose again, so yeah, we’re good. I don’t want no trouble.” 

He pointed to his friends who had finally made it to their feet and were standing beside him. “They don’t want no trouble either. We’ll back off, man, alright? No harm, no foul, okay?” 

Ian could feel Mickey looking at him. He turned to see the other man pinning him with a stare that was an odd combination of pride and exasperation. “You good with this?” he asked Ian.

Ian looked from righty’s knee, lefty’s ankle and knee, to Dallas’s busted face. “Yeah, we good.” 

Mickey nodded and then threw his hands in the air. “Alright boys, won’t be no ass kicking today. This shit is squashed for now, so leave it alone.”  
They heard a bunch of moans and disappointed sighs as the group of thugs turned and walked the other way. 

Iggy looked at the damage and then back to Ian. “Damn, Gallagher, remind me never to piss you the fuck off. Shit.” Ian chuckled as a semi-smug look crossed his face. 

Carl shook his head. “Only on the Southside.” He threw an arm around Ian’s shoulder. “Come on big brother, Liam’s been worried sick. Let’s let the others know everything’s okay. 

#

Mickey woke to the smell of coffee, what smelled like banana pancakes, fried hot dogs, and eggs.

“Thought the smell of food would bring you around.”

Mickey rubbed his sleep heavy eyes and sat up in the bed. Ian came all the way in the room, a tray of food in his hand. He sat it in front of Mickey. It came complete with orange juice and coffee. 

Mickey picked up the folk and stabbed a piece of the cut up hot dog, scooping some eggs up as well. Mmm, just the right amount of cheese, salt, and pepper. Ian sure as shit knew what he liked. He looked up at the smiling redhead. “So I guess you decided to take things into your own hands yesterday, huh?” 

Ian sighed as if he knew this was coming. He took a seat on the side of the bed beside Mickey. “Got the problem solved didn’t I?” 

Mickey cut into his pancakes. Sometimes he wanted to strangle and kiss Ian at the same time. “Why you not eating?” 

Ian stood, a cocky grin on his face. “I’ll get my plate. We can eat in here together.” 

Mickey waited until he’d almost made it out the door before he spoke up. “It was stupid going off by yourself like that.” He hadn’t said anything last night, but the situation could have easily gone in the opposite direction and he needed Ian to understand that.

Ian shook his head. “Didn’t make it through basic, plus four years, without learning how to fight, Mick.”

Mickey frowned. Ian just didn’t get it. “Alright then, tough guy. Just don’t go off half-cocked like that again without at least letting me know. I don’t like it when we’re not on the same page.”

Ian nodded, finally seeming to understand. “I promise,” he said before heading for the kitchen.

Mickey watched him go with a small chuckle. To be honest he was a little more than impressed with Ian taking charge the way he had. It turned him on, Ian’s tough guy persona. He felt himself starting to harden when he remember how he’d been unable to control himself last night after they’d left the Gallagher house. Nobody had ever made him feel the way Ian Gallagher did. The other man brought out something in him, something almost animalistic and Mickey knew without doubt, he’d do anything to protect what they had. 

Ian came back carrying a plate and a glass of O. J. He sat the orange juice on the night table and took a seat beside Mickey. 

Peaking over into Ian’s plate, Mickey saw they had basically the same thing except for one small difference. “Is that a chocolate chip muffin?” he asked. He tried to lean over and not disturb his food at the same time. 

Ian looked a little sheepish as he picked it up and placed it on Mickey’s plate. “It’s for you. I was savings it for you.” 

Mickey had never wanted to kiss somebody so bad in his life. He crooked a finger, motioning for Ian to come closer. Two quick kisses and then he was biting into chocolate chip heaven. “Thank you,” he said around a mouthful of muffin.

Ian laughed leaning over to give him another kiss. “Its okay, Mickey. I know you like’em sweet.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all falls down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hope you guys have enjoyed reading this as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. There’s only a short epilogue left after this. 
> 
> Thanks so much for all kudos and comments!

Ian and Mickey sat out on Mickey’s deck relaxing. They had a cooler of beer beside them and steaks sizzling away on the grill. Inside the fridge sat a bowl of salad with dressing, waiting to complete their meal. 

Mickey took a pull off his cigarette. “Did you pay the cable bill? I left it on the kitchen table and now I can’t find it.”

Ian swigged his beer, then burped. “I took care of it.”

Mickey shook his head. “Pretty soon we’re gonna start double paying shit. I never know what you pay and you never know what I pay. We need to set up some kind of system, man.”

Ian nodded, the smell of the steak making his eyes a little glazed. “Yeah, I’d hate for the utilities to get cut off, because we got our signal’s cross. We’ll be sitting in the dark sweating like beast with no air.” 

Mickey chuckled then got up to tend to the steak. He kept his back turned as he poked and prodded them. “Maybe we should have like an account or something. Get everything set up online. Just for the bills, you know. We both go half, or some shit. Let it come out automatically." 

Ian grinned so wide he thought his face would split open. He tried to steady his voice, but it was hard. Mickey wanted them to have a joint bank account. Giddiness flowed through him like fish in the sea. “Oh, okay, sounds good. Shouldn’t be a lot of hassle. We’ll go tomorrow, set it up. Mange our bills online like we’re from the Northside or some shit.”

Mickey placed the food on the table with a frown. “It has nothing to do with Northside, Southside. It’s just practical is all,” he shrugged. 

Ian knew not to push the issue. “Yeah, Yeah, I know,” he laughed as he went in to grab the salad, A1 sauce, and dressing. 

Ian was still smiling when he came back and set everything on the table. Mickey placed a steak in front of him and rolled his eyes in the process. Ian could care less. He was happy. For once in his fucking life, he was happy. 

He felt a sudden rush of adrenaline. His body literally shook from the effort of it and for a moment he wondered if this was what it meant to be floating on cloud nine. Mickey seemed oblivious to it, as he sat busily cutting into his steak. Ian felt a surge and suddenly he was jumping up and tackling his boyfriend to the deck floor. 

“What the fuck, Gallagher?” Mickey looked up with a sparkle in his eye and laughter in his voice. “What the hell you doing, man?” 

Ian claimed his mouth. Sweet and yielding, Mickey wrapped his arms around him deepening the kiss. Ian smiled down at him. “I want to suck your dick.”

Mickey ran his fingers through Ian’s hair. “What about dinner?”

Ian looked to where the steak rested comfortably on the table. “It won’t mind,” he said before pulling the other man’s pants down and going in. 

#

“You can’t beat the shit outta somebody over a fucking tattoo,” Mickey told his brother. Iggy had been going on for the last week about some guy who’d stolen his dragon maker design. 

Iggy’s voice rose, probably to compete with the noise of the bar. “Bullshit, Mickey. I can beat the fuck outta whoever I want.” 

Mickey laughed and took a swallow of beer. The place smelled like food, body odor, and alcohol. He shook his head as he thought what a fucked up combination that was. They were back at Kick-Back-In, it was the first time they’d been there since he and Ian had met. 

Their Friday night’s had grown to include Iggy, Derrick, and even Onion and Kev when they could get away. Tonight they were all there, shouting, drinking, watching the game, and stuffing their mouths. Good times. 

He noticed the flushed look on Ian’s face and had to resist the urge to lean over and kiss the redhead. Ian’s green eyes shone as he joked with Iggy about something and Mickey knew he was happy. Happy that they were all there together, and happy that all the bullshit was behind them. It scared him how much Ian’s smile affected him, how he knew he’d do anything to make sure that smile never left his boyfriend’s face. 

Ian banged a fist on the table. “Hey, at least make him give you a finder’s fee, huh? It’s your design. Everyone knows it’s you design.”

Mickey turned to Ian in exasperation. “You’re not helping.”

Ian shrugged. “Sorry. Siding with Iggy on this one.”  
Mickey shook his head and turned back around. Kev and Onion were involved in some stupid ass conversation about fishing hooks. Ian and Iggy were talking about Iggy’s rights as a tattoo artist, who the fuck knew what Lip and Carl were discussing, and Liam and Derrick were both looking at Derrick’s phone. 

Mickey finished his beer and snatched up a cigarette from his pack on the table. He tapped his boyfriend on the thigh to get his attention. “I’m going outside for a smoke, wanna come?”

Ian paused for a second in his conversation with Iggy. “Nah, I’m good.”

Mickey gave him a quick kiss on the lips, stopping himself before it went to far. “Be right back.”

When they’d first gotten there, they’d tried to get a table outside, but the place was packed and there just wasn’t any room. Mickey saw a lone chair sitting by the portable bar. Just his luck he didn’t have to stand. He ordered a beer and sat down enjoying the slight breeze waffling through his hair. 

“Man, where the fuck you been? Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?”

Mickey looked up to see Tim Street in front of him. Tim was a cop who he’d hooked up with a couple of times. Of course, all that had stopped once Ian had come into his life. The fucker had called a few times since, but Mickey had first ignored and then blocked the man’s number altogether. He hadn’t thought about Tim in forever and if he was honest with himself, he’d forgotten the other man even existed. 

“I moved on.” Mickey lit up his cigarette and inhaled, waiting for him to go on about his business. 

From the look on Tim’s face, that was the last thing he’d expected to hear. “What does that mean?”

Mickey scoffed. Was this guy for real? The silence and the blocking of his number should have clued him in a long time ago. “Don’t wanna bang no more, simple as that.”

Tim’s eyes turned dark for just a second, then he stood tall and squared his shoulders. “Well fuck you then.” 

Mickey watched him walk away with a shake of his head. Wasn’t like the sex was all that good anyway, it was more like a means to an end. He put his cigarette out and stood to go back inside with his boyfriend and their brothers. 

#

Ian and Mickey both woke disoriented and confused to the lyrics of, 'Hey Mickey,' trying to take over their eardrums. When it got to the part of, “Its guys like you, Mickey,” it seemed to stall repeating that one phase over and over again. 

Ian looked at the clock on the nightstand and noticed the bright red letters read 3A.M. 

“Seriously, Mickey, is this some hidden fetish that you haven’t told me about?”

The other man rubbed sleep out of his eyes, getting up and going to the bedroom window. “You really funny right now. That shit’s coming from outside.”

Mickey’s face visibly paled and he made a strange choking sound in his throat as he looked out. “Man, you have gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Ian immediately jumped up, determined to find out what the problem was. Mickey scooted to the side and Ian peeked out. Standing under a streetlight, right in front of Mickey’s house, arms folded over his chest, leaning back on a blue four-door truck, was a guy looking at Mickey’s front door with a big ass smile on his face. 

Ian’s jaw tightened. “What the fuck, Mickey? Who the fuck is this?”

Mickey grunted, snatched up a shirt, and stormed outside, Ian right on his heels. “What the fuck you doing here, man? And why the fuck you playing that stupid ass shit? What the fuck are you 12 or something?” So Mickey did know who the fuck this was. Ian wondered how long this shit had been going on. He felt his whole world slipping away and he had no idea how to rein it back in. 

Just the thought of losing Mickey made something deep inside of him ache. 

The guy could care less about Ian’s dilemma as he crossed and uncrossed his legs, looking at Mickey and smiling.

Mickey’s nostrils flared wide and angry. He picked a beer bottle out the trash and slung it at the smiling fool. “Get the fuck out of here, man! You know what time it is?” 

The guy smirked and easily moved to the side avoiding the erred bottle. It crashed against the car with a loud thump and shattered into pieces. “3 A.M. on some nights we’d just be getting started.” 

So this guy was a former lover of Mickey’s. Ian didn’t know how to feel about that. He knew they both came with a pass but it was one thing to know it and quite another to have it shoved in your fucking face. Well fuck that shit. He didn’t have to put up with this bullshit. He made a move to charge, only to have a sweaty hand pull him back. “What the fuck, Mickey?”

Mickey’s eyes were hard but his voice came out low and pleading. “Just let him go. We don’t need the trouble.”

Ian yanked his arm away. Since when, he wanted to shout, but backed off anyway because Mickey had asked him too. “Either he leaves now, or I stomp his ass into the fucking ground. You choose.” Ian was nowhere near playing. His chest rose and fell from the force of his anger and the look on Mickey’s face said he understood completely. 

“Fuck. The fucker is a fucking cop.” Mickey ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Would have been stomped his ass if he wasn’t. 

Ian could give a fuck. He was straight military and if need be, he’d call in every favor he had. Either the fucker left now or Ian would try to take his whole fucking head off. It really was a rather simple choice when you thought about it. 

The cop must have felt the dangerous vibe because he stood up straight and leveled Mickey with a stare. “I’ll go, you just think about what we talked about earlier because I’m not ready to let go.” Opening the driver’s door, he paused and turned to Ian. “Hey, orange boy? Yeah, you. Don’t get to comfortable. He doesn’t keep anybody around too long.” 

Ian was on him in an instant. One throat chop took him to the ground with Ian following all the way down, his fist pounding in an unmerciful rhythm of assault. 

“Goddamnit, Ian.” Mickey grabbed him in a full body hug, picked him up, and pulled him away from the bleeding man. “Go now, Tim, what the fuck you still laying there for.” 

Ian felt the same nervous energy that had made him tackle Mickey on the deck. He had to get out of there, because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions. He made a move to go for the fucker again but Mickey held him tight. “Chill, the fuck out, Ian, he’s leaving.”

Tim got up, face bruised and bloodied. “I’m a fucking cop, asshole,” he seemed to think that meant something. 

Ian almost laughed at him. “So what, you wanna call your cop friends and tell’em what you’re doing here tonight?” 

Tim jerked his car door back open and climbed   
inside. “This ain’t over,” he said, as he put the car in drive and rode away.

Ian felt a rush of air leave his lungs as he tried to catch his breath. His mind seemed to be folding in on itself. He couldn’t think. What was right? What was wrong? He had no fucking clue. All he knew was that he needed to leave right fucking now. “I’m going to Lip’s,” he said, walking back into the house.

Mickey grabbed him by the arm and yanked him around, his breath hot on Ian’s face. “What! Why? Over some fuckhead cop who I haven’t thought about once since I met you? Who I never thought about before that unless it was to bang?”

Ian walked through the house throwing clothes into a bag, still pumped from the fight a few minutes ago. “It’s not that, Mickey.” Ian stopped and took a few moments to catch his breath. He felt like his chest was caving in and he had no idea how to make the other man understand that.   
“Look, it’s not that. I trust you. I know that. Even if I don’t know anything else, I know that. It’s just, I can’t breathe, and I just really need to go, like right now.” 

Mickey’s face crumbled. He opened his mouth, only to close it again, a complete look of helplessness taking over his features. Ian felt his heart drop. He loved Mickey so much. He didn’t want this. He really didn’t, but something was pulling him toward that front door.

He grabbed the other man close crashing their lips together. They kissed like drowning men, neither wanting to let their live preserver go. Ian rested their foreheads together. “I love you, Mickey. I’ll call you okay.”

Mickey clung to him, kissing his neck and under his chin. “Please don’t, just, I just, Ian please, just don’t.” The breaking in his voice nearly broke Ian’s heart.

“Don’t what?” he whispered into the other man’s ear. His chest was getting tighter and tighter. He knew he had to leave, but damn if he was able to let Mickey go.

Mickey pulled away, running a hand over his face. “Don’t leave. Don’t go. This is your home. We just added your name to the mortgage. Why would you leave your home?” he pleaded. 

Ian couldn’t take anymore. Mickey was breaking him the fuck apart. He had to get out of there before he disintegrated all together. He snatched up his bag and threw it across his shoulder. “I’m not leaving, Mickey. I’m just going to Lip’s for a couple of days. I could never leave you. I would never leave you. You have to know that by now.”

Mickey wiped his eyes, his voice held nothing but disbelieve. “But that’s what you’re doing.” He pointed to Ian’s bag. “You leaving, right now you’re leaving.”

“I’ll be back,” Ian said. He kissed Mickey on the forehead and then turned and walked out the front door. 

#

Mickey stood in stark silence for all of three seconds before racing outside. He watched as Ian slid inside his car, closed the door, and drove off. 

Mickey felt his breath catch, as the tail light on Ian’s car disappeared around the corner. He never moved. For twenty minutes he stayed planned in the exact same spot, looking in the exact same place, willing his lover back to him.

It didn’t happen and Mickey finally had to admit defeat. What the fuck was he supposed to do now, seriously what the fuck. Ian said he needed time and Mickey respected him enough to give him that time, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. 

#

His house had never felt so cold and empty. It was so different without Ian there. Even something as mundane as taking a shower had lost all its luster. When Ian was home, they would always jump in together, laughing, joking, fucking, kissing, and doing anything that crossed their minds. Now, he got in, washed what needed to be washed, and got out. He missed Ian so much his whole body shook from the pain of it. Who knew when he’d first seen that shock of red hair, that the other man would impact him in such a way. 

Mickey skipped breakfast, as that too was something they did together. They’d sit at the table, or in the bedroom, sipping their coffee and going over their plans for the day, all the while stealing kisses and sneaking small glances at each other. 

Mickey had always kept his distance. He’d never allowed himself to fall in love, had never even wanted to, but with Ian he didn’t have a choice. The redhead had come barreling into his life, and taken over completely, and Mickey had loved every single second of it. 

#

“It’s fucked up. What you gonna do, man?” Iggy asked puffing on a joint. 

Mickey let out a low sigh. Good question. They were sitting on the back steps of Iggy and   
Mandy’s shop taking a smoke break. 

“He wants time. So I give him time.” Mickey shrugged. “What else can I do?” 

Time could mean anything. Maybe Ian would come back next week, maybe next month. Mickey felt a small stinging in his eyes, hell it could even be next year. He was new to this relationship thing so he had no idea if Ian really needed time or if that was just his fuck-up way to end their relationship. He put his head in his hands and tried to wipe his eyes without Iggy seeing. He guessed the only thing he could do was wait. 

Iggy inhaled. “It’d work out, man. That’s how relationships are. Shit get’s fucked up then shit get’s put back together, fucking unavoidable.”

Mickey scoffed. “Whatever, man. Like you’ve ever been in a relationship longer than 3 minuets.”

Iggy pointed to his chest, a satisfied smirk on his lips. “That happens to be all the time I need to get off, so fuck you, and it’s not like you ever did the dance before Ian came along.”

Mickey sobered at the thought. “Yeah,” he said his voice soft and low. He missed Ian so fucking much it hurt and he had no idea what to do with that pain.

“Yeah,” Iggy agreed.

#

“Mickey go home.”

Mickey looked up to see Mandy in the middle of shampooing a head of hair. 

“Why?”

Mandy paused in her washing. “Like hell you’re going to follow me around all day.”

Mickey couldn’t believe this shit. He was being as quiet as he possibly could. “How the fuck am I bothering you? I’m reading a fucking magazine. I’m not even talking to you.”

Mandy rolled her eyes, but it was a soft look that came across her face. “Do you want me to cancel the rest of my appointments?” 

Mickey’s head snapped up. “What? Why? What the fuck for? Jesus, I’m not a fucking five year old.” He was truly offended. 

Mandy did a final rinse and sit the lady up. “Look, asshole, I can hear your heart breaking from all the way over here. It’s bringing down the mood of my whole shop.”

Mickey stood up and flexed. “Fine, then, I’ll go.” He started for the door.

Mandy stopped him before he’d taken two steps. “I think Iggy might need your help in the back. He’d said something about it earlier.” She was lying. He knew she was lying, and he knew that she knew that he knew she was lying, but he didn’t care. He loved her for it anyway.

“Well it better not take all day,” he said, glad to have something to occupy his time.

#

Mickey sat in the bowling alley, a plate of hot dogs, fries, and nachos in front of him. He guzzled his beer and watched the late nighters coming in. The big black and white clock on the wall read 12:30, so he knew he only had an hour and half before they closed. 

He’d been floating all day, following Mandy and Iggy around to the point that he’d gotten on his own damn nerves. Truth is, he just didn’t want to be alone, and the two other Milkoviches seemed like his only lifeline. 

Dipping a chip, he sighed. This is what dinner had become, because honesty the thought of going home and sitting down to eat without Ian was excruciating. He popped the chip in his mouth thinking of the many times they’d chopped onions, tomatoes, stirred sauce, cooked each other favorites, and generally just worked together to produce a meal. 

Together. That’s how they’d done everything, he realized. Time with his family, time with Ian’s, it was always done together. Dinners, movies, baseball games, everything was done as a team. 

Mickey squeezed his eyes tight. This shit was so fucked up. They worked so fucking well together. Ian was his best friend and now he was gone. 

Mickey looked at his phone and sighed. Ian had said he’d call but he hadn’t. He had been checking his phone all day and not a single call from Ian. So maybe this was the redhead’s way to finally let Mickey go. Maybe Ian just didn’t love him anymore or maybe he never had. Mickey had no clue how this shit was suppose to work. All he knew was that he loved Ian and wanted him to come back home. That’s it. Nothing else mattered. 

He picked up a hot dog and bit into it, hoping like hell this wasn’t something he’d have to get used to.

#

Mickey had just pulled his shoes off and was taking off his shirt, when the shrill sound of his phone lit up the otherwise quiet house. He scrambled across the bed determined to catch it before it went to voicemail. He didn’t bother looking at the caller ID as he slapped the phone to his ear. “Hello.”

“Got a skip.”

Something inside him died. Literally fucking died. He’d been so sure it was Ian on the other end of the phone. He pinched the bridges of his noise together and took down the info. Maybe this was a good thing, somewhere else to focus his attention. Maybe when he came back, Ian would be home and everything would be okay again. He sure as fucked hoped so. 

“Fuck it,” he said shooting off a quick text. He knew Ian needed his space, but he felt the need to at least let him know that he’d be outta town for a few days. It just didn’t seem right, not letting him know that.

#

Liam went up for a shot only to have Carl block it, sending the other boy flying on his ass. He sat up and glared at his older brother. Carl’s face lit up with a victorious grin before reaching his hand down. 

Liam slapped him away. “I can do it myself.” He stood, took the ball, and bopped Carl upside the head with it. Then they were off, yelling, running, and throwing the ball at each other.

Ian shook his head while Lip laughed. They where at Lip’s house, Lip’s huge ass house, sitting at picnic tables in the backyard watching the two   
boys go at it. Ian tried to put on a happy face. 

They were having a brother’s weekend. Though Liam stayed with Lip a lot, he and Carl hardly ever did and so this weekend would give them a chance to really bond.

He knew it was Lip’s way of trying to cheer him up, but he couldn’t help it, he missed Mickey. He wanted to go home, he really did, but just the thought of it made his chest seize up. He needed Lip, to be near Lip, just until he got himself under control. The other man was his point of reference and had been for years. 

If he was out of control, it was always Lip who would rein him it. It was Lip who told him when he was overreacting or when he wasn’t reacting enough. Lip who would take him to the doctor to get his meds checked and if need be changed. It didn’t matter that they’d lived in separate states, if he caught himself spiraling, or if Lip hadn’t heard from him in a significant amount of time, he’d drop everything to catch the first plane to be by his brother’s side. 

“You know they remind me of us,” Lip said bringing his attention back around. 

Ian looked to where Carl and Liam had stopped running around and resumed their game of hoops. “Yeah? How’s that.”

Lip smirked around the joint he was smoking. “How many times you refuse my help when we were younger, telling me you could do it yourself?”

Ian laughed, it was small and sad, and fuck he wished Mickey was sitting right beside him, a part of the conversation, a part of their brother’s weekend. He shook the thought off and focused on Lip. “Yeah, well, Liam has never had to wear Carl’s hand me downs.” He thought about that for a minute. “You know you buy him way too many clothes. What’s up with that? Over half the shit is his closet has tags on it. He has shoes and coats they he’ll never wear. It’s a waste of money, man. Why don’t you just buy him the bike he’s being saving for?”

Lip shook his head. “He needs to know the value of a dollar. I let him make his side hustles. Let him work for the things he wants. He needs to know what that’s like, but, clothes, shoes, those are necessities, so I’ll always provide those, regardless.” Lip looked to where the two younger boys were still going at it. “I want him to have it better than we did, man. He’s so smart, like a mini me, and I just want to be able to give him everything.” Lip shrugged. “He’s a good boy, straight A’s, sneaky enough to never get in trouble, helps out at home. He deserves a little happiness, yeah?”

Ian turned fond eyes on his baby brother. “Yeah, but you spoil him. Stop. The last thing we need is him growing up with a complex.”

Lip nodded. “He’s gonna work for that fucking bike.”

#

“I treat all of them with respect, buy’em whatever they want, give’em jewelry, necklaces, bracelets, take’em on trips, wherever they want to go. I’m a good man. I don’t care what you three think. I’m a good man,” Carl said around a mouthful of pizza. 

They were in Lip’s, ‘man’ room, eating pizza, drinking beer, and watching some nature program on the big screen.

Lip snorted. “Yeah, you do all of that for about a month or two, then you drop’em, no reason, no explanation.” 

Carl shrugged. “I get bored easily.” 

Liam kicked him under the table, a scowl on his face. “Yeah but then we,” he pointed to himself and Lip, “get a bunch of phone calls full of shit like; ‘why won’t your brother talk to me? Why won’t he take my calls?’ It’s fucking annoying.” He turned to Ian. “Don’t worry, now that you’re back, you’ll get you’re share of’em too.” 

Ian smiled wide and looked at Lip. “Who do you think his women call when he tires of them?” Ian was never sure if Lip had actually given them his number or if they’d went though his phone at some random time and found it. Either way he agreed with Liam, it was annoying as shit. 

Carl took a sip of beer. “No shit, all way in D.C. they call you? Shit, guess I learned from the best then.”

Ian nodded at Carl, but hit Lip with a death stare. “See what you’ve done to our little brother? Proud of yourself, are you?”

Lip threw his hands up, his eyes bright with amusement. “Hey, not everybody’s as lucky as you two.” He pointed to Liam and Ian. “You know Liam has been crushing on the same girl since he was ten and you and Mickey are…” he trailed off realizing what he was about to say.

That was all it took for the mood in the room to shift from carefree brother bonding to uncomfortable silence. Ian wasn’t having it, though. “Come on, guys. Stop. Mickey and I are not broken up. I still love him and he still loves me. We’ll work this shit out, you’ll see.” They had to work it out because Ian wasn’t ready to lose Mickey from his life. He knew he sounded a lot more confident than he felt, but it did the trick. 

Everyone started talking again, and sibling bonding resumed with vigor until his phone rang. He looked at the display. “It’s Mandy.”

Lip stopped talking, all traces of humor gone from his face. “You good?”

Ian nodded, still looking at his phone. “Yeah. She’s called twice, Iggy once. I’ll tell her to call back.” He answered the phone and explained that he’d talk to her later.

“Okay?” Lip asked as soon as he hit the end button. 

No, he wanted to scream. Nothing is fucking okay. Instead, he slipped the phone back in his pocket and smiled. “Yeah, told her I’d talk to her later.”

#

“So what do you want to do?” Lip asked.

Ian sat up, feet hanging off the side of the bed. Lip had waited for Carl and Liam to go to bed before coming into his room. He should have known this was coming. The other man had been giving him strange looks all day. 

Ian shrugged. He had no fucking idea how to answer that question. The only thing he really wanted to do was get back under the covers, curl up, and think about Mickey. 

Lip nodded as if he’d expected as much. “Wanna   
know what I think?” He pulled the chair from beneath the desk and moved it beside the bed, sitting down as he continued to talk. “I think you’re scared. I think this whole time you’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop and this guy showing up, who obviously meant nothing, I mean didn’t you say Mickey threw a brick at him or something? Anyway, that guy gave you an excuse to bail on something that obviously scared the shit out of you.” Lip shook his head. “But seriously, he threw a fucking brick?” 

Ian laughed in spite of himself. “It was a bottle, but yeah, that part I’m not worried about. I mean, I know Mickey loves me. I know that he wants to be with me. I’m not worried about that. I know what he felt with me. You can’t fake that. It’s everything else that’s getting in the way.” 

“Like what?”

Ian shrugged. “It’s just, I’m just…”

“Scared,” Lip answered for him. “You’re feeling something you never felt before. Dealing with old pervs like Ned and Kash, it fucked you up more than you know. But this shit right here, this is real. Mickey is real. He’s good for you. He has to be because I’ve never seen you so happy. Your eyes, face, hell your everything light’s up when he’s around.”

Ian wondered when they’d wandered into the twilight zone. “Is that actually approval I hear coming from you?” If his voice held a little disbelieve then who could blame him. 

“Ten years ago I’d probably had scoffed at the idea, hell even when you first started up I was wary. Kind of thought for sure you’d end up with a broken heart. But Mickey’s been friends with Carl for a few years and I’ve never seen him shine the way he does when you two are together.” 

Ian tried not to blush. He knew what he and Mickey had, but seeing it from someone else’s eyes, hearing someone else speak on it, felt good in a way he hadn’t known was possible. “Why you telling me all this?” he asked his brother.

Lip looked toward the floor as if he was ashamed of what he was ready to admit. “Cause maybe I’d kill to have that kind of connection with someone. Because it’s not as fun as it seems going from woman to woman looking for something and fuck if I even know what I’m looking for.”

Ian knew the feeling. It was how he’d felt before he’d met Mickey. “Yeah, but when you find it, and I’m sure you will, it’s like nothing else in this world.” It was holding on to it that was the problem. 

They talked for about twenty more minutes before calling it a night. Ian lay in the dark and thought about what Lip had said. He reached under the covers and pulled out Mickey’s old red and gray tee-shirt. He’d stuffed it in his bag by mistake; at least that’s what he told himself anyway. Bringing it to his face, he inhaled deeply. He missed Mickey so fucking much. Why had he left and why the fuck did he feel like he couldn’t go back? Was Lip right? Was he scared? Had he been waiting for the other shoe to drop? It was something to think about. 

#

It only took Mickey one day to find his guy, and get him locked back up. He still hadn’t heard from Ian and while he wanted to give him his space, he still had an indescribable urge to check up on him and make sure he was okay. 

Monday night brought him to the gym because Ian still hadn’t call and he had no fucking idea if he was okay or not. The place was closing and Mickey slipped in at the last minute. Yeah, he had a key, but didn’t know how Ian felt about him using it. Darkness settled over everything, giving the place a quiet content feeling. He and Ian had spent many nights in here after closing and so he had a pretty good idea where the other man was. 

“Nice night for a soak, huh?” he asked walking into the backroom where the Jacuzzi lay. Ian had his eyes closed, head thrown back, bubbles floating all around him. Beautiful. He looked so fucking beautiful and Mickey’s breath caught in his throat. 

“Mickey?” he said, sitting up, a look of wonderment on his face. 

Mickey folded his arms in front of him. He felt so awkward and he hated it, hated feeling like that in front of Ian. But he didn’t know what to say, didn’t even know what he expected to happen right now. “Hadn’t heard from you, wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Ian smiled at him and lit up the whole fucking gym. Mickey looked down at his shoes because that smile wasn’t his anymore and it hurt too fucking much to look at it. He needed to get the fuck outta there. Coming here had been a bad fucking idea.

“Will you join me, Mick?” Ian said before he could make a move for the door.

Mickey kept his head to the ground, avoiding Ian’s eyes. “Sure you want me to?”

Ian scoffed. “I asked, didn’t I?”

Yes, yes he had asked. Mickey quickly stripped out of his clothes, not caring where they landed. The water was warm and comforting and the first move he made was toward Ian. He wrapped the other man up in his arms and felt like he’d just been given water after days of a drought. 

Ian leaned down and captured his lips. It was clingy, it was desperate, and it said all the things that they couldn’t. Pausing for breath, they clung to each other, only to start right up again. “When you coming home?” Mickey asked, chest rising and falling from the ferociousness of their kisses.   
Ian looked to the water. “I think I was scared,” he said. 

Mickey’s stomach dropped like a stone. “Scared of what? Me?”

Ian pulled him closer, placing a kiss to the side of his neck. “Of us, of what it all meant. I was so happy. I’ve never felt like that in my life and I guess I just kept waiting for something to happen, and the cop showing up just kind of brought it all down on me.” 

Mickey nodded, because this was something he could understand as he’d often wondered the same. He and Ian were happy, and they did work well together, and maybe if they’d meet earlier, when they were both trying to find themselves, things would have been harder, or at least different, but he didn’t doubt for one second that the love would have been just as strong, because that’s what he and Ian did. They loved each other and to them it came as easy as breathing. 

He pushed Ian against the Jacuzzi wall and slid between his legs. Ian smiled and laced their hands together. “So what we gonna do?” he asked.

Mickey shrugged. “Make sure shit like this don’t happen again. Us being apart, that shit fucking sucks,” he said, laughing at his own cheesiness. 

Ian turned serious eyes on him. “I told you about Kash, but I never told you about Jimmy’s dad.”

Mickey’s eyebrows rose. “Fiona’s old boyfriend?”

Ian nodded. “I thought I was old enough, thought I knew what I was doing. I was fifteen when I started fucking Kash. Shit, you just don’t see it then, you know? When you’re doing it, when it’s happening. It’s not until years later that you realize just how much it’s affected you. Thinking of them now.” He stopped talking as a look of pain flashed across his face. “It turns my fucking stomach. They took advantage of a young boy, who didn’t know any better. How many more have they had since me, huh?” 

Mickey felt his blood boil, but his touch was tender as he caressed Ian’s face. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve no shit like that to happen to you. I would never hurt you, Ian. You have to know that. I’m not them. I would never take advantage of your trust like that.” 

Ian nodded as silent tears fell down his cheeks. “I know that, Mick. It just creeps up sometimes is all. Just thought you needed to know that in case it came up again.” The last part was spoken in a mumble. 

Mickey ran a thumb across his bottom lip. “That guy the other night…”

“Means nothing,” Ian answered. “He means nothing.” His jaw clenched and his eyes had taken on a hard look. Mickey felt it best to leave that conversation on the ground where it belonged.

“So I caught my skip,” he said hoping to lighten the mood. He’d do just about anything to see that smile back on his boyfriend’s face. 

Ian’s eyes brighten. “Good, now you can buy me that 4 by 4, I’ve been wanting.” 

Mickey threw his head back and laughed. He’d buy Ian any fucking thing in this world. “We’ll get it tomorrow, any color you want.”

Ian’s eyes turned wide. “I was joking.”

Mickey didn’t care. If Ian wanted it, he’d fucking get it. “I’ll buy you the fucking truck, Ian, it’s not a problem.”

Ian laughed deep in his throat as he playfully pushed Mickey against the wall. “I don’t need you to buy me a fucking truck, Mick, Jesus, are you even serious right now?”

Mickey pushed back, and threw Ian against the wall. “Wouldn’t have said it, if I wasn’t, tough guy.”   
And just like that they slipped back into their easy banter, where no one else existed and it was just the two of them against the world.

#

Ian insisted on spending his last night at Lips, which was fine with Mickey because he was on a mission. Fucking Tim. Who the fuck did he think he was showing up at Mickey’s house upsetting Ian like that? It was through Ian’s own confidence and his believe in what they had that had kept him from reacting like a jealous lover. Still, that fucker Tim hadn’t known that.

He’d tried to fuck up Mickey’s whole word. Tried to ruin the one thing in his life that made him feel free, that made him feel anything at all. Mickey was going to fucking kill him. He didn’t care if he was a cop. The fucker was still in the closet at work so Mickey was sure he wouldn’t risk bringing a former fuck buddy up on charges. 

He waited on Tim’s front porch, until his truck pulled into the driveway. As soon as he stepped out the car, Mickey lunged. The rage of the last few days had built up and unfortunately for Tim, it all came pouring out at that moment. “Don’t you ever,” Mickey dropped the other man with one punch, “fucking come to my house again,” his voice was hard and low and he could feel himself loosing control as he stomped the other man into the ground.

“I will fucking kill you, do you understand me?” he squatted down and pulled Tim’s head out of the mud. This fucker had caused so much pain. He had no idea the effort it took not to finish him completely. “If you ever come near me or my boyfriend again, I will fucking kill you. My uncle Joe works at the refinery. We’ll melt your bones and no one will ever know what happened to you. Understand?”

Tim jumped up, pushing Mickey off him, trying hard to catch his breath. “Fuck off. You’re not even worth the trouble. You and orange boy think you can just hit a cop anytime you get ready, huh? Jesus, I was just trying to have a bit of fun with you and this is how you react?”

“A bit of fun? You were just trying to…” Mickey head butted him and waited until he hit the ground before putting a shoe to his throat. “Do you have any idea? You’re a cop and that’s the only thing saving your ass right now. Cross me again and you’re dead, fuck the badge.”

#

Satisfied that Tim had been taken care of, Mickey started home only to whip the car around and head to Lip’s house. He called Ian on the way.  
“Mickey?” Ian’s voice was laced with sleep and maybe a little surprise.

“Get up and open the door. I’m on the way over there.”

Mickey could hear rustling in the background and figured Ian was already moving toward the front door. “Why?”

“Just open the fucking door,” Mickey said, throwing the phone on the seat beside him. He realized he was still a little hype from his fight with Tim but figured he’d calm down once he got to Ian. 

Pulling up, he saw Ian sitting on the front porch waiting for him, nothing but a pair of boxes hugging his hips. “What are you doing here?”

“Going to bed.” Mickey walked into the house, Ian right behind him. “Which way is your room?”  
Ian shook his head as if he couldn’t believe Mickey was there. “This way.” Mickey smiled as he followed Ian’s lead. 

Ian’s voiced dropped low as he pinned Mickey with a heated stare. “Take your clothes off and get in bed.” Ian was sleepy no more, if the budge in his shorts was any indication. He dropped his boxes and hopped under the covers.

Mickey didn’t need to be told twice. For the second time that night, he stripped completely, joining Ian under the covers. “We’re going home first thing in the morning,” Mickey said, then stopped talking entirely as Ian placed light kisses down his stomach. 

“Anything you want, Mick.” Ian wrapped warm lips around his cock and Mickey’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. There was no more talking done that night.


	6. Chapter Six, Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the end, hope you guys have enjoyed reading this, I certainly had fun writing it.
> 
> I had started another chapter, where Bonnie skipped, and Carl and Mickey went after her. We never got to see them go on a skip together, and I kind of wanted to explore that, but I just couldn't make it fit here.
> 
> I'm thinking of doing a one-shot squeal, where they go after someone together. A dangerous criminal, who has already taken out the first three bounty hunters sent after him.
> 
> I would love to not only explore how Mickey and Carl work together, but also, Gallagher and Milkovich reactions, especially Ian's, as it would be his brother and lover in danger. I don't know, it's just a thought.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!

Five years later

Ian sliced tomatoes, waving the knife around as he talked. “I can’t believe Lip bought Liam a fucking car. He probably can’t even have a vehicle his first year on campus.”

Mickey got out the salad dressing. “He got a full ride to MIT. Don’t he deserve a fucking car?”

Ian placed the bowl of salad on the table, then lined up the cups to pour juice in. They were babysitting Debbie’s three-year-old daughter, and Mandy’s four-year-old son. “He spoils him.”

Mickey had got out the juice and begin to pour, but stopped when he heard this. “You gave him twenty-five hundred dollars. Carl threw him a fucking stripper party. Deb and Fiona are still buying shit and smuggling the fuck out of him. You all spoil him, like seriously, he’s probably happy the get the fuck away.”

Ian took down plates and passed them to Mickey, while he got the pizza off the counter. “Whatever. We’re all just really, really, proud of him.”

Mickey placed one slice of pizza on each plate. “Yeah, I know what that’s like. Mandy and Iggy both seem happy, huh? I mean Mandy’s fucking married. She has a house, a child, and a fucking mortgage, like what the fuck?”

Ian laughed. Iggy and Mandy were doing great. The shop was still doing well, and while Iggy still hadn’t settled down yet, he was a great uncle, as they usually alternated weekends with him when it came to Mandy’s son Bryce. “Mandy’s married, Debbie and Derrick are married, and Fiona’s been married for years, all of our sisters have been taken away from us,” he chuckled.

“Good fucking riddance,” Mickey joked, before calling the kids to the table.

Bryce, and Debbie’s daughter, Anna, came in together, caught up in an animated conversation about the new version of -The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles-. Ian shook his head at the pair. They either got along great or fought like cats and dogs.

Ian felt a pull on his leg, and looked down to see Anna staring up at him.“Uncle Ian, can we have cake after our pizza?” he reached down and picked her up, spinning her around. “Do you want your mom and dad to kill me?” he asked placing her back in her chair.

“Uncle Ian, please.” Bryce looked up at him with those big bright Milkovich eyes, that made it hard to say no to anything. Feeling helpless, he turned to Mickey for support.

Mickey shrugged. “Who the fuck cares if they have cake?”

Ian turned to the two partners in crime. “Cake, after you eat your dinner.” He grabbed two beers out the fridge, put a couple of slices on a plate, and walked into the living room. “You think Carl will ever settle down?”

Mickey snatched up a slice and sat back. “Lip’s been with the same girl for two years, so who knows?”

Ian took a swig of beer and then burped. He didn’t care if Carl settled down or not, he just wanted his brother to be happy, and he seemed happy, so he guessed that’s all that mattered.

He turned to Mickey, who was happily chomping away on his pizza, and had the certain urge to kiss the shit out of him. A small peck on the neck really wouldn’t hurt anything, would it?

Mickey jumped from the contact.“What the fuck, Gallagher? I’m eating, you’re eating, the kids are right in there,” he pointed toward the living room.  
Ian smiled and Mickey just shook his head and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Later, firecrotch, later.”

Ian had never been happier in his life. 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all kudos and comments!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, hope you liked it. I tried not to make it too ooc, but it is set ten years in the future, so I tried to show that too.


End file.
